Through the Looking Glass
by SherlollyShock
Summary: During his 2 years away, Sherlock faced many challenges, one of which involved a blow to the head. 6 months later, he's back & it takes Molly to work out that the blow has left his mark. Sherlock is typically stubborn and won't admit that damage has been done. It takes Molly's care and attention to coax him to deal with it... and neither of them expect the consequences. Sherlolly
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock sat at the table in the kitchen of 221B. It was just after lunch and he was in the middle of an experiment about mould growing on the top of old cups of tea and coffee to establish how long a flat had been unoccupied. It was part of the proof he needed to show that someone could have committed murder, before they emigrated to Australia and had settled there for 2 months. He pulled himself away from the microscope and took a deep breath. His head was throbbing. It wasn't just throbbing, it was pounding. One of those headaches where you just wanted to lie down and close your eyes.

He picked up his drink and walked over to the sofa. He grabbed a cushion, lay down slowly and shut his eyes. He needed a break from looking at text and into microscopes, which was not like him. Sherlock used to be able to work for hours without a break, but recently something was amiss. As he lay and closed his eyes, his thoughts wandered into his mind palace.

It wasn't the first time in recent days and indeed recent months that a morning spent looking into a microscope, writing detailed notes or reading a book had resulted in such a headache. Mrs Hudson had popped up for her usual mid morning cup of tea and a chat so he couldn't have been working for more than 2 hours maximum. His thoughts focussed. Headaches after looking in detail at a microscope, or reading. Even Sherlock Holmes himself could work out what the problem was. He just was not prepared to admit it. He would rather continue to suffer and struggle than to admit a part of his body was failing. Sherlock Holmes did not fail.

He must have dozed off for a couple of hours, because he suddenly became aware that it was getting dark outside. It was the middle of winter and so that meant it was around 4pm. He knew that Molly would be in the lab at St Barts. It was getting cold in the flat. He couldn't see the point in putting the fire or the heating on just for himself, so he scooped up his notes and some petri dishes containing his experiments, and put his coat on. Some company in the lab would be very welcome, and he was sure that although Molly wouldn't admit it, she'd welcome some company too.

Sherlock had shaken off most of the headache by the time he got to St Barts. He grabbed a strong coffee on the way into the lab, hoping futilely that it would take the rest of the headache away. 'Caffeine, I just need caffeine' he told himself over and over.

When he entered the lab it was empty but Molly's bag and her phone were there so she was around somewhere. He quickly scanned the white board - she was up in the morgue carring out a post mortem. 47 year old female, stab wound to the left hand side of the chest, bruising around the left wrist and trauma to the right knee. He picked up a pen and wrote next to it. 'Domestic. If husband is left handed, it was him' before sitting himself down at his favourite microscope.

He set about sorting out the microscope to his liking, changing the height and angle and refocusing it. 'How anyone can see through that is beyond me' he thought to himself.

He lost himself in his work, carefully noting everything he found. There was access to so much more equipment and chemicals in the lab than ever he had at home. He was able to undertake much more complex chemical analysis using the equipment, and to find the results much more quickly. It was one of those rare occasions when he wondered if he might have suited lab work - before he came to his senses and thought in pure horror about the idea of fixed hours of work, having to turn up on time every day. It filled him with fear!

He was half way through his experiment when his headache returned with vengeance. He buried his head in his hands to relieve the pain, before going on a hunt around the lab for some pain killers. He had just tracked down some ibuprofen, when he heard the lab door click open and Molly walked in.

"Hi Sherlock, what are you doing here? Oh, and what have you got there?"

"Just some ibuprofen, and before you ask, I'm clean otherwise. OK?"

"OK, I believe you. Got a headache? Looks like a bad one judging by how your face is all screwed up. Didn't know you ever got them!"

"Yes, thank you Molly." he said, popping the pills in his mouth and swallowing them down with a glass of water.

She wandered over to the white board where she saw what he had written and laughed. "Yes, I think you're right. Does look like a case of domestic violence to me."

How typical of Sherlock to not have even seen the body but to be able to work out straight away what had happened. She watched him with interest, as he returned to his work place and started to look down the microscope. But something was slightly different this time. She'd not seen him at work for quite some time due to his time away following 'the fall' and she watched in interest as he looked down the microscope, pulled his head away, shook it slightly and then returned to look down it again.

The Sherlock she knew was able to spend hours staring into a microscope while writing notes at the same time. He never looked at his piece of paper, but his notes were still completely legible and clear. But today it was different. He appeared to only be able to look into the microscope for a matter of seconds before having to look away.

"Sherlock, I don't mean to pry, but are you OK? You seem rather agitated. Is your head really bothering you?"

"I'm fine Molly, thanks. But can you come and look at something for me. A mans alibi depends upon this and I need to know I've got it right."

"Of course" said Molly wandering over to his work place amused that he was asking for her confirmation on something. She felt honoured he trusted her enough to ask her to share in his experiments, which were always complex and very interesting. A branch of chemistry and forensic science she never got time to explore herself, so she relished these opportunities to work with him.

She peered into the microscope, and had to pull straight back. "What setting have you got this on? Can you seriously see through this? I can't see a thing."

"I adjusted it a little. It was all out of focus. I still can't quite see clearly which is why I need you to confirm it for me, but its better than it was."

"Sherlock, please answer me seriously" she said looking him straight in the eye "Can you not see this? And you've got headaches? This is all blurred." She paused and thought for a while before the penny dropped. "I think we need to get you to an optician first thing in the morning"

"I'm fine. Just tired and been spending too much time working on this, that's all" he said snappily, starting to pack his things away.

Molly grabbed Sherlock's arm and stopped him. "Sherlock, please. I'm not having a go at you. But if you seriously have to have the microscope this far out of focus to partly see, and you're suffering from headaches which you never have in all the time I've known you, you need to get this looked at. If your sight isn't as it was, it'll only get worse, not better. Trust me, I know. I went through the same thing about 5 years ago. As soon as I got my glasses and subsequently my contact lenses I was so much better. I'll come with you if you like? A friend of mine is an optician. He'll sort you out. He's been sorting my eyes for years."

Sherlock sat down and looked at Molly. He took a deep breath and nodded his head slowly, taking care not to make any actions that were too violent for fear of more pain. "It's been slowly getting worse for some time. It started very suddenly when I was away in Eastern Europe. Took a particularly bad beating to the head during one reconnaissance trip to track down some of Moriarty's gang, and I noticed the difference straight away as the deterioration was so sudden. It's been slowly getting worse over time."

"If it's related to a blow on the head, then yes it can happen quite quickly as you describe. I often find that with people I'm doing PM on. If they've taken a particularly bad blow to the head you can see evidence of eye sight problems, even in death. It's better to admit it, trust me. You'll find life so much easier if you do. I hadn't appreciated what I couldn't see until I got my glasses. I'll phone Paul in the morning and get you an appointment and text it over to you." She bent over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Now, go and get yourself home if you've finished here. You need some sleep to get rid of that headache."

"Got any morphine I can have?" asked Sherlock grinning

"No I haven't" Molly replied straight back. "Now get out and get home!"


	2. Chapter 2

It was rare for Sherlock to listen to someone else but he hadn't put up a fight. He'd done as Molly said and gone straight home to 221b, stopping only to grab a bag of chips. When he arrived home he was pleased to see Mrs Hudson had obviously been up and put the fire on for him. He sat in his favourite chair with his plate of chips, cleared the lot along with a glass of water, took two more ibuprofen and then went straight to bed, his head still throbbing.

He was awoken the next morning with a text alert from Molly.

_ Spoke to Paul. Appointment at 10am. Meet me at St Barts in 30 mins, and we'll go from there. And get up! MH_

_ What makes you think I am still in bed? SH_

_ I text Mrs Hudson and she said she'd not heard you moving about yet. Therefore you are still in bed. MH_

_ I am going to have words with Mrs Hudson. And stop texting my housekeeper. SH_

_ She's your landlady not your housekeeper. Now get up and get dressed. MH_

'Not my housekeeper, my foot' he thought to himself as he got up. 'She knows when I am still in bed, and she even turned my fire on last night'.

Sherlock sighed and resigned himself to having to go. He'd hoped Molly might forget, or let him make some kind of excuse, but he knew if he didn't go, she'd only come round, drag him out of bed and force him to go anyway. He stretched, climbed out of bed, showered and was dressed within 20 minutes. It was a chilly, fresh morning so he decided to walk to meet Molly.

"How's your head this morning" Molly asked as he walked up to her outside St Barts.

"Fine thanks. In fact, I'm feeling so much better that we can give this all a miss" he replied back, starting to turn around and head in the other direction.

Molly grabbed his arm "Oh no you don't. Prove to me we don't need to go and I'll let you walk off" She said, handing him a small piece of paper with some writing on. "Read that to me and I'll let you go home without coming with me."

The piece of paper was about the size of a business card. He could see it contained about 12 or so words of text, obviously hand written by Molly but anything more than that he could not tell. He extended his arm out as far as it would go, but still no joy. He had utterly no idea what the paper said. He just could not read it.

He handed it back to Molly in silence and simply nodded and walked in the same direction as her. Molly slipped her arm through his. "You know, for someone who is a genius, sometimes you can be extremely stupid. Why on earth didn't you get this sorted sooner?"

Sherlock carried on walking in silence. He knew Molly was right. He just wasn't prepared to admit it. Had John still been living at 221B he'd have forced Sherlock to go and get it sorted months ago, but John was living with Mary and Sherlock and he rarely saw each other.

"You know, John would have found out very soon anyway" said Molly. "You are going to be his best man after all. That will involve paperwork and lists and things and he is a doctor. It wouldn't have taken him very long at all to put two and two together. He'd have sent you anyway. Oh, here we go, come and meet Tom. You'll like him."

Sherlock watched as Molly greeted Paul with a friendly peck on the cheek "Paul, this is my friend Sherlock Holmes. Go easy on him won't you?"

It felt like he was in there an eternity before he was 'let out' to see Molly. "Thank goodness that's over. Can I go now."

"Not yet" Molly laughed at him, as she took the piece of paper out of Paul's hand. "Flippin heck Sherlock, how on earth have you even functioned with the eye sight you have? It's terrible."

Paul nodded from behind. "Yes, it's pretty bad for both long and short distance. I'm afraid you're a full time glasses wearer from now on, Sherlock. Molly said you'd been getting some headaches. With the poor vision you've got, they must be horrendous. All eye strain related. As soon as you get your lenses, you'll find they clear up pretty much straight away. I'm surprised you've been able to read any smaller text such as newspapers at all and you've obviously needed to come and see me for quite some time. You're going to need some varifocals where the base of the lens is for reading and for seeing objects close to you, and the top of the lens is for distance. They take some getting used to but once you're sorted you'll wonder why on earth you didn't come to see me sooner. Having poor eye sight isn't a failure, it's just one of those things."

Sherlock looked straight into Molly's eyes "You wear contact lenses don't you? I don't want glasses, I want contact lenses. I'm not even 40 yet. I can't need glasses full time."

Molly laughed. How like Sherlock that was."You can't go straight for contact lenses, Sherlock, especially as you need varifocals. There are some contact lenses you can have but they're not easy to wear. Your eyes will have to adjust to glasses first. I had to wear glasses for about 3-4 months before I got contact lenses. You'll be able to get them soonish but just not yet. And age doesn't even enter into it. You've got bad eye sight. Simple as that. So stop denying what needs to be done, and lets get choosing you some frames. Something sophisticated and intelligent, I think." she said wandering over to start helping him choose.

Sherlock headed over to join Molly. It seemed his fate had been decided for him and he had no choice but to accept it. It was very like him not to admit the fact that deep down he was quite relieved and would be glad to regain his full vision again.

Once they had chosen his main frames and a spare set Molly and Sherlock said their goodbyes and thank yous to Paul and left the shop.

"Cup of coffee?" asked Sherlock

"Love one" said Molly, and they walked to the nearest Starbucks coffee.

Sherlock ordered a double shot espresso with and Molly had a latte. They sat down at a table near the window.

"Tell me the truth. How have you coped?" Molly asked

"Not very well at all, in all honesty. I haven't been able to read a newspaper properly, so I've been relying on the internet where I can make the print larger. I've even got the text on my mobile as big as I can make it! I was supposed to drive down to see my parents a couple of weeks ago too but couldn't do it so I took the train instead."

Molly laughed "Hold on a minute, you drive? Since when?"

"Since I passed my test"

"OK, sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. I just never expected you to be able to drive, that's all"

"I've got my motorbike license too. I tend to ride bikes more than I drive. It's easier in London. My bike's in John's garage at the moment as I can't store it at Mrs Hudson's and Mycroft's got a new car so his garage is full now. That's where I used to store it before."

"I cannot imagine you on a motorbike. How come I never knew this before?

"Because I never needed to share the information."

"And now I know, my next question is 'where are you going to take me' Mr Motorbike?"

Sherlock took a sip of his drink and paused for thought. "Where would you like to go?" has asked quietly.

Molly smiled. She hadn't expected that response at all. She'd expected to be dismissed out of hand and for him to walk out or to make some sarcastic comment. "I'd like to go wherever you wish to take me." she paused. "I have a day off a week on Sunday if that helps? You'll have had time to adjust to your glasses by then and be fine to drive." she added quickly.

Sherlock nodded, finished his drink and got up to leave. "A week on Sunday it is then", and he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Nothing more was said of their conversation and Molly almost felt like she'd dreamed it. Sherlock would never take her out for the day. He wasn't that type. It was just an excuse for him to be able to get up and leave when he wanted.

It was a few days later that Sherlock and Molly went back to see Paul to collect Sherlock's glasses. Molly could only smile at him as she watched his reaction as he put them on for the first time. It was quite obvious to her that it was like he was regaining an old friend. She handed him the same business card she'd given him all those days ago, and she watched as he read what she had written and smiled. 'I bet you £100 you can't read the text that is on this card'. "How about dinner instead, when I take you out on the bike" he simply said, looking into her eyes and seeing them clearly for the first time in many months.

Molly smiled back and nodded. Lunch sounded lovely. And it was going to happen. He was going to take her out on a ride. He'd not just said it to dismiss her.

Sherlock spent some time with Paul as he showed him how his new lenses worked and how he was going to have to get used to looking through them differently to use the different elements of the lenses.

Afterwards Molly and Sherlock walked back towards St Barts together.

"How do you feel" Molly tentatively asked him as she watched him walk. She prided herself in the fact she'd done a great job of choosing his frames. They really did suit him, and she was interested to see him taking in all that was around him. The man who prided himself on observation was able to freely observe again with no obstructions.

"It feels quite strange to be honest" came the reply. "I hadn't realised how much vision I'd lost until now. I knew it wasn't great and wasn't right, but I had no idea. It's going to take some getting used to but I'm sure I'll get there." He paused and stopped walking "Thank you Molly" and he gave her a light peck on the cheek.

Molly grinned "You are welcome. Now go home and see how you get on with your microscope and your work. Text me later to let me know." She left him and walked into St Barts, turning back to make a small wave before disappearing out of sight.

Sherlock wandered back through the streets of London alone. He was taking in all the sights that he could now see clearly since the first time he had returned from his two year self imposed exile. He looked at himself in the reflection of a window. He laughed. Molly had indeed done a good job of choosing the frames They looked like they belonged there which is just what she said she wanted to achieve for him. It wasn't the first time he felt a burst of pride inside as he thought of Molly. He soon pushed it away and carried on walking, enjoying the sights around him.

As he neared home, he saw a CCTV camera on a roof watch him walk down the street. He knew exactly who was behind it. What on earth was Mycroft going to say when he saw him? He was bound to have some sarcastic comment about body failure or age creeping up on him and Sherlock just wasn't in the mood. He'd thought he might be able to keep it a secret from Mycroft, but who was he kidding? Mycroft had cameras on him everywhere he went. Mycroft would have logged into the opticians computer the minute he knew Sherlock was in there and known his prescription and eye test results even before Sherlock knew.

He approached 221b and put his key into the lock. He even found himself smiling as he clearly saw the lock for the first time. There were all sorts of scratch marks around the lock and door. He presumed he'd made them himself. But from now on it would be different. He had taken the step forwards and he had regained something he hadn't realised he'd so badly lost. His sight.

He opened the door, and wasn't really surprised to see Mrs Hudson waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. Of course Molly would have text her. Of course she was there to give him moral support. Mrs Hudson walked over to him and gave him a hug

"I think you look very sophisticated" she simply said "I've made some tea. I'll be up in a moment". Sherlock nodded and pecked her on the cheek, before heading up to his flat. He took his coat and scarf off and smiled again at the fact Mrs Hudson had obviously been up and put the fire on for him. 'not my housekeeper of course' he thought to himself as he sat down in his chair. It wasn't long before he heard Mrs Hudson on the stairs and she walked in with a tray containing two cups of tea and his favourite biscuits. She'd also bought him a news paper.

"Thought you might like to read this" she said with a smile on her face. Sherlock took it from her and was delighted to see for the first time in as long as he could remember that he could actually read the text. He lost himself in it for a moment before she called his attention back. "I would actually like to talk to you rather than just looking at a newspaper you know!" she said laughing.

Sherlock apologised, put the paper down and grabbed a cup of tea and a biscuit.

They had a lovely chat. Of course she asked him about his visit to the opticians and how he was feeling now. They talked about Molly and Sherlock could tell that Mrs Hudson was prying to know more. Sherlock decided that if he didn't tell Mrs Hudson they were going out for the day, Molly would tell her anyway. He actually suspected Mrs Hudson knew already by the way she was prying!

"We're going out for the day. She asked about my motorbike so I said I'd take her out for a ride. Oh, and for lunch too."

Mrs Hudson let out a slight squeal and rubbed her hands together. "Where are you taking her?"

"Not decided yet. I thought I might take her to the seaside. I was trying to think where she might like and I keep coming back to that. What do you think?"

"I think it sounds perfect. She'll love that. Where?"

"Brighton perhaps. It's a easy enough run on the bike and I know a nice restaurant down there. The owner owes me a favour"

"Oh, did you get him off a murder charge too, or was it something more mundane?" she asked sarcastically

"No, I recovered an item of jewellery with great sentimental value to his wife. They've been asking me down for a meal for ages since and I thought it was a good opportunity."

"Sounds utterly perfect." She put the two empty cups back on the tray and stood up to go "And Sherlock, treat her well. She's a gentle soul, and you need to take care of her."

"I will Mrs Hudson, I will"

And with that, she was gone. Sherlock stood up and headed into the kitchen. He was strangely excited to look into his microscope clearly for the first time. He felt fresh and invigorated, ready to face the day. He could see clearly. He had decided where to take Molly. All in all, for once Sherlock Holmes was in an open frame of mind. He grabbed himself a glass of water and sat down to do some work before lunch time. He looked at the clock. It was 11am. He'd do a couple of hours work before popping out to grab a sandwich and to plan the trip he was looking forward to taking Molly on in more detail.


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock suddenly became aware of a text alert coming through.

_ Well, how is it? MH_

He looked at his watch. It was 8pm. He'd been working for more than 9 hours without a break. He looked around the room. Mrs Hudson had obviously been up as there was a cold cup of tea and a sandwich sitting next to him.

_ Good. Thank you for your help. SH_

_ Glad to hear it. Now take a break from that microscope and give your eyes a rest. You can over do it if you're not careful. You are still adjusting. MH_

_ Let me guess, Mrs Hudson? SH_

_ Of course, who else! Now take a break! MH_

Sherlock stood up. His back was aching as he'd been hunched over his microscope for so long but he had enjoyed himself. It had been such a long time since he had been able to do it. He picked up the sandwich that Mrs Hudson had made him and headed over to his favourite chair. He sat down and took his glasses off. He hadn't realised how tired he would feel. He guessed it was his body just getting used to it. As he looked around he began to appreciate just how blurry everything was without them. For the first time he cursed his own stubbornness for not sorting things sooner, but it was who he was.

He reflected on things. Molly, as always, was a constant in his life. She was there when he needed her most. She had helped save his life on more than one occasion, and now she was helping sort out his life again. Where he refused to admit failure or defeat, she was first on the scene to sort it. And now she had persuaded him to take her out for the day. What it meant he didn't really know but he did know that he was looking forward to it.

He ate his sandwich, popped his glasses on and text John. He'd not used his bike for quite some time, and so it would need checking over, servicing and MOT-ing before he could use it.

_ Need my motorbike next Sunday. OK to collect it Thursday to get it checked over? SH_

_ Of course. Going anywhere nice? Not had a text from you for a while! Thought you were ignoring me. Fancy a beer? JW_

Sherlock chose to ignore the first part of John's reply. This was not the time or the place to tell John where he was going or who he was taking out.

_ Beer sounds good. Usual place? 20 mins? SH_

_ See you there. JW_

Sherlock got up, put his dirty plate on the side, grabbed his coat and scarf and headed out. Mrs Hudson was in the hallway, cleaning the stairs.

"Just off out for a beer with John"

"Give him my love."

"I will". He gave Mrs Hudson a peck on the cheek and headed out into the cold evening.

It was a 15 minute walk for each of them to the pub they were meeting at, half way between the two of them. John was walking up the street in the opposite direction to Sherlock and Sherlock could make out John was doing a double take. He realised he was wearing his glasses and John was bound to make some kind of comment.

"Going for the intelligent look now?"

"Yes, thank you very much. Beer?"

"Oh god, yes. Usual?"

"Please"

"Guess it will be my shout then?"

"Of course!"

Sherlock sat down in their usual corner as John headed for the bar. He returned back with two pints of lager. Sherlock and John both took a large drink and put their glasses down on the table simultaneously which made them both smile. Even though they had not seen each other much, they still had a connection. 'Best friend' John had called him when he asked him to be his best man. To this day Sherlock still felt shocked that such a phrase had been used in connection to him. He, someone's best friend. He couldn't believe it, but he did like the sound of it.

John was watching Sherlock quite closely, taking in his new look. Sherlock could tell John was dying to ask him about it. "So, a new look then" John eventually came out with.

"It would appear so. Molly been talking to you?"

"Yes, OK, she has. Why didn't you say something before about headaches and your eye sight before?"

"No reason to"

"When and where?"

"Not worth talking about to be honest."

"Seriously Sherlock, a blow to the head and now eye sight damage. I know how good your eye sight was before you left. Now you have a prescription at the level you have, and you're a full time glasses wearer. It must have been some impact."

"It was. Now stop being all doctor like on me."

"Yes Sherlock, I am being all doctor like on you because I have cause to suspect you had a major trauma which has caused you significant optical and possibly cranial damage. It is my job to make sure you don't have any long term after effects as blows to the head can cause all sorts of problems, such as eyesight issues which you are experiencing. But other things can lie dormant too. So when and where did it happen.

"About 6 months ago in Saudi Arabia." Sherlock picked up his beer and had another drink.

"And, any more detail you'd like to share with me?

"There's not much else to share. I was cornered, I got beaten up, blow to the head, several broken ribs and some quite severe bruising to my back and legs. I got myself out, lay low for a while and then I moved on."

"Seriously Sherlock. Did you see a doctor? Did you have a CT scan? Did you get checked out? We know of optical nerve damage, but what else?"

"Like I said, I lay low for a while, and I moved on."

"Ok, so no doctor or hospital then. Was your sight suddenly worse, or has it progressively got worse?"

Sherlock sighed and didn't answer.

"Sherlock, I need to know. You need to tell me. This could have some massive long term implications for you. Please."

"It was immediately worse. Then it's hard to tell but I think it's been slowly deteriorating since then."

John let out a massive sigh and shook his head. "Whether you like it or not, you are coming to my surgery tomorrow morning, and I'm sorting an emergency CT scan for you."

"Thank you John but I don't think that will be necessary."

"Ok, we'll see. Well you can at least fill me in on why you need your bike on Sunday"

"I'm going out for the day."

"You've not had your bike out since before you ... well, before the fall. Why now? Going anywhere nice? And with anyone or on your own"

"I'll pick it up Thursday around 7pm. How are the wedding plans coming on?"

John knew that was the end of the conversation about his sight and why he needed his bike, and that there was no chance of revisiting it. They spent the rest of the night talking about Mary, the wedding, Sherlock's recent cases and various other things. As Sherlock was preparing to leave, he excused himself to go to the bathroom and John immediately text Molly.

_ He refused to be checked out as we thought. JW_

_ Don't worry, I'll have him at your surgery within the next 48 hours. MH_

_ Good luck. JW_

As he saw Sherlock returning John pretended to be on the phone to Mary. He wasn't sure if his ploy to pretend to talk had worked but Sherlock didn't question him further. John and Sherlock bade each other a cheerful 'goodnight' and Sherlock headed home into the cold night air, via the chip shop as he was peckish.


	5. Chapter 5

He wandered through the streets taking in the sights, again enjoying the clarity of vision he now had. He was again able to turn into Sherlock the observer, taking in details which had passed him by for so long.

As he walked up to the door of 221b, he could hear voices in side. Female voices. Mrs Hudson and who? He opened the door as silently as he could to hear "will you help me?" coming from a voice he knew well.

"Want a chip Miss Hooper?"

Molly nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned around to find Sherlock standing directly behind her, offering her his packet of food. Once she'd gained her composure she pinched one from him with a grin

"What do you need help with Molly? Anything I can do?"

"No Sherlock, it's fine. It's all sorted, really." said Molly shooting Mrs Hudson a quick glance. Mrs Hudson reached over and grabbed a chip too "No, nothing at all".

"AH, so it's about me then. John's been texting to tell you that I refused to go to see him at his surgery tomorrow morning."

"Sherlock, you have to go and see him" begged Molly. "For me, please?" she said, looking straight into his eyes.

He looked at Molly and then he looked at Mrs Hudson, who was also looking at him the same way.

"Brilliant. Two females begging me to do something. You'll be getting Mary and my mother on to me next too, won't you?"

"Yes, if that is what it takes" Molly instantly replied.

"Ok, ok, I'll go and see John tomorrow at some point."

"At some point isn't an option, Sherlock. I've already text him to tell him you'll be there at 9am and I'll be coming with you" said Molly with a grin on her face. Before he could answer back, she slipped her arm into his and said "C'mon, I could do with a hot chocolate. As she started to pull him upstairs to his flat." Mrs Hudson simply smiled and discreetly disappeared back into her rooms.

Sherlock and Molly entered the flat and he shut the front door. He put his chips on the kitchen table, struggling to find space in amongst the notes and work he'd been doing earlier. He took off his coat and scarf, popped them on the back of his bedroom door, and then headed back into the kitchen, flicking the kettle on as he passed. He picked his chips back up and headed into the living room, where Molly was sitting on the sofa. He offered her his chips again, she grabbed a few, and then he headed to his favourite chair, sitting down with a contented sigh.

"So, how is John?"

"He's fine."

"And Mary? Wedding plans coming on well?"

"I think so. Sounds like they're making good progress. I think they're heading round next week so we can start to do some detailed planning. Never done this before. Could be interesting."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Did he ask you about why you need your bike next week?"

"Yes"

"And did you tell him?"

"No"

Molly laughed.

"Did you tell him?"

"Of course not, Sherlock. I may talk to John about some things but there are others which stay private. Of course I didn't tell him."

The kettle boiled and Sherlock headed back into the kitchen, getting two mugs out of the cupboard. He opened the other cupboard. No hot chocolate. In fact nothing at all. Not even a tea bag. He was about to tell Molly when he heard a little cough at the door from the hall into his kitchen. He went and answered it. It was Mrs Hudson with two sachets of hot chocolate. " I thought you might need these" she said as she handed them over. Sherlock smiled at her and not for the first time laughed to himself "Not my housekeeper, eh Mrs Hudson?" and he gave her a big grin and a kiss on the cheek before she quietly headed back down the stairs, laughing to herself.

During all of this, Molly had headed into the kitchen behind him and sat down at the table, looking at the work Sherlock had been doing earlier in the day. It was pretty advanced chemistry and not for the first time Molly marvelled at how brilliant he was. She knew it would have taken him a matter of minutes to decipher the complex symbols and equations that were in front of her. She, on the other hand, would have taken a little longer to crack them. Sherlock made the drinks and handed one to Molly who said 'not your housekeeper?' with a smile. Sherlock sat down next to Molly.

They sat together in silence for quite some time drinking their drinks, before Molly enquired "What are you working on?"

"Something for Lestrade. It's a murder case from 25 or so years ago. Mother was murdered, then a few days later the father was too. You may remember it. It was in the news when we were kids. They blamed the son and he was imprisoned for life."

"Oh my goodness, yes, I do vaguely remember. In Newcastle upon Tyne wasn't it?"

"Yes it was. At the time I remember being doubtful about it, but who would take the word of a 12 year old child against Scotland Yard? Well, the evidence has now been called into question and the son has been proved innocent. They have an alternative suspect in custody but they need someone to help them revisit it. It sticks so clearly with me and I was so convinced the son was innocent at the time and that it was actually the mother's brother, that I volunteered to help. It's a complex case and there's quite alot of things to be studied under the microscope but the more I do on it. the more I'm convinced I was correct all those years ago. I went back to my parents house recently..."

"Yes, you mentioned that earlier in the week. You were going to drive, but you took the train."

"Yes, that's the one. Anyway, I went back to collect one of my note books from way back then. I used to write up all my notes in them from cases I'd been watching. I found the one with the notes from this case in it. I knew exactly what I was looking for and I remembered it perfectly but I wanted to check the detail. I've surprised myself with how accurate I was. I'll show it to Lestrade when I've finished all the data collation here, but aged 12 I can confirm I believe I solved the crime perfectly."

"You see, a 12 year old could have showed up Scotland Yard" said Molly in awe. He was brilliant even back then. She could just imagine him pouring over newspapers, collecting evidence and then sitting in his bedroom writing his own case book. She looked at him.

Sherlock became aware of Molly looking at him, smiling. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Quite brilliant Sherlock. Quite brilliant" as she looked deeply into his eyes and did not pull away.

Sherlock's response came quite without him even thinking twice. He leaned in to Molly and returned the kiss on her cheek. They sat there for several seconds, his lips on her cheek, neither of them pulling away.

Molly was the first to pull away. She picked up her drink and finished it off. "I have to be going. It's late. Thanks for the drink. I had a lovely time. I'll be round at 8:30am to collect you to see John.

Sherlock sighed. He'd secretly hoped Molly would forget he'd said he would go and see John, but of course she hadn't.

"See you in the morning, Molly."

She leaned in for another kiss, this time on his lips, a kiss that was held on to by both of them for slightly longer than normal, before she grabbed her coat and scarf from the sofa, and headed out of the front door of the flat. Sherlock listened as he heard her go down the stairs, call goodbye to Mrs Hudson, and head out of the front door.


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock was up and dressed by 8.30am when Molly arrived. He wasn't usually an early riser but it appeared Molly was. All the appointments she seemed to arrange for him were early morning. In fact, she seemed to be more in control of his life than he was at the moment. Hot chocolate last night and a bed time much earlier than was normal for him, well, on the nights he bothered to go to bed that was. He realised he'd been 'managed' by Molly, and he actually didn't mind one bit.

"Morning" She said cheerfully as he walked through the door "Thought you might still be in bed."

"So I'm sure you text Mrs Hudson to check I was moving around?"

"Of course. Now c'mon, the taxi is downstairs waiting." As she said this, she'd already taken herself into Sherlock's room, grabbed his coat and scarf and passed them to him. He silently thanked himself for remembering to make the bed, and to tidy up. Usually his room was a total mess at this time in the morning, except for his sock index. That was always in perfect order.

The journey in the taxi to John's surgery was about 20 minutes in the rush hour traffic, and Sherlock found himself fidgeting all the way there.

"Stop fidgeting, Sherlock. I'm not letting you get away with this. You have to go, so you might as well get used to it!"

John and Mary were in reception waiting for them when they arrived. John mouthed a 'thank you' to Molly as he took Sherlock straight through to his room. Molly nodded to John, and then sat down with Mary for a quick catch up.

When Sherlock got into the room, there was another person in there. It was Paul the optician that Molly had taken him to the other day. He looked at John frustratedly.

"We'll have none of that thank you" said John. "Paul is as worried about you as I am. He's never seen such a rapid deterioration in someone and so we're both interested, clinically, in how it happened, what damage has been done, what the short term and long term side effects are and may be . So we need you to tell us all you can about what happened, how you felt when it happened, immediately after, some time after and so on. Every little detail will help us to build up a picture. Paul examined you with his ophthalmoscope when he did your eye test, but he wants another look. Then the CT scan will give us a confirmation of what exactly is happening now."

Sherlock sighed. He had no choice. John would get the information out of him anyway so he might as well share it now. He started to tell the story. He related to them how he had been tracking a group of Moriarty's gang across the Middle East and they had ended up in Saudi Arabia just outside Riyadh. There he had watched them from a roof top for five days with his only shelter the walls around the edge. The midday sun had been scorching.

"What were you wearing?" John asked

"Why is it important?" Sherlock retorted

"Exposure to that level of rays on your pale skin could mean significant skin damage too, Sherlock. If we're going to check you out, then we might as well do it properly."

"I was in a Thawb and a Keffiyeh, so I was covered from head to toe."

"Fine, thank you. Carry on."

Sherlock continued with his tale. He told how he had observed them but had twice had to leave the roof top to get fresh water.

"It was only when I revisited the corridor leading up some time after I had been attacked that I realised they must have installed a camera while I was up on the roof top. there was one occasion when a helicopter had passed fairly close over head. I thought I had done a good job of hiding myself but obviously not. They knew I was there. They were watching me.

"It was 5 days into my stake out that I had to head back into the building to get some more water. I pretty much all the information I needed to take action so was planning one, maybe two days more maximum so I wanted to restock. I had not eaten or slept for 5 days so my energy levels were at rock bottom and they knew it. I had wrongly assumed I would be safe, but had taken the usual precautions. Unfortunately the had obviously been informed of my usual movements by some of the other parts of the global network, and as I re-entered the building they were waiting for me. I think there were 5 of them, but the blow to the head came immediately I entered the building and when I awoke they were gone. I estimate I was unconscious for around 10 minutes judging by the movement of the sun. They had dragged me up onto the roof top, left me on the full force of the afternoon sun, stripped me of my top then locked the door to the building from the inside. I had nowhere to go, no-one to turn to and no water. I quickly worked out in addition to my head wound, I had some broken ribs where I had apparently been kicked, and they had obviously not been too gentle with me as they dragged me back onto the roof top as I believed my back was pretty torn to shreds where they had pulled me across the gravel roof top. They had also taken my bag with what few possessions I had in it. But the most obvious thing to me was that my head was pounding, it felt like I had blood running down my face and into my eyes, and I could no longer see clearly. "

"So where did you go? You told me you 'lay low' for a while." John asked

"I stayed on the rooftop. There wasn't much I could do. My body was broken and I'd not slept or eaten for 5 days. My mind palace had decided to take 'early afternoon closing' and so I just let my body sleep. I figured it was the best thing to do. I would either die up there of dehydration and hunger or I would awaken with at least a small element of energy which would allow my brain to function and then for me to formulate a plan.

"It turned out to be the latter. I slept for about 12 hours and awoke when it was still dark. My body was broken but I had to get off the roof top, so I summoned all the strength I had to climb as best I could. It was only 4 stories so it could have been worse. Luckily I had been in contact with Mycroft a week or so before, so knew of a safe house which is where I headed. There I found a bed waiting for me, some food and some clean clothes Mycroft had laid on for me. There was also a very small first aid kit, enough to enable me to prevent infection on the wounds over my back. I stayed there for around 4 days until I felt strong enough to head back out again. I knew by then Moriarty's men would have visited the rooftop and found me gone, so I had to plan my next move carefully. I eventually managed to take the gang out, and move on."

"How did you take them out?"

"That I cannot share with you, John. Mycroft and his team have been amazing covering my tracks and remain covered they shall."

John simply nodded and understood. He and Paul quizzed Sherlock for another 15 minutes or so about the nature of the injuries he had suffered. During this time they also closely examined Sherlock, and took some x-rays of his chest and back so they could see the damage to his ribs. When John returned to the room with the x-rays they could clearly see where the breaks had been. It turned out he had broken 5 ribs, 4 of which had knitted back together well. The 5th wasn't quite so clean but was not cause for concern. Sherlock's back still also wore the faint scars from where he had obviously been dragged. One of the wounds was particularly nasty

"That could have done with some stitches, Sherlock" John said. "You're lucky these didn't infect."

"I am a chemist, John. My supplies were limited, but I was able to concoct something which I knew would hold infection at bay."

Their conversation carried on, now focusing on Sherlock's head injury and subsequent eye sight problems as a result. Sherlock answered all their questions fully and co-operatively. John and Paul thanked Sherlock for his co-operation when they had finished and then they went off to talk.

Sherlock headed out into the waiting room to see Molly and Mary.

"How did you get on?" Molly asked

"Fine. Can we go now?"

"No Sherlock, we cannot. You have to wait to see what John and Paul say to you and what their course of action is from here." Molly gently took Sherlock's arm and sat him down next to her. Mary appeared with two cups of coffee.

"Here you go, thought you might appreciate these" Mary said handing the coffee over before she returned back to her desk.

Sherlock and Molly were almost finished their drinks when John called him back into the examination room. They also asked Molly to join them.

"Sherlock, I think we need to get your CT scan done soon. It makes sense to get this checked out. Your body has made a pretty much full recovery but your head is totally different. Both Paul and I suspect you had some kind of bleed behind the optic nerve. These things can heal themselves but they can also lie dormant. Paul is on the phone to the hospital at the moment, to get you an urgent appointment and also to see the senior Ophthalmologist."

"Why is it urgent?" Molly asked with a sense of urgency in her voice

"Because I know if we don't do it as soon as we can, Sherlock will get cold feet and won't go. We're trying for today if we can so we can at least get this sorted. The problem with an old injury like this Molly, as you well know, is it can flare at any time. Sherlock has talked Paul and I through the circumstances surrounding the injury occurring and we feel we'd like to get it checked out as soon as possible." He turned to Sherlock "I wish you had said something sooner, Sherlock."

Sherlock refused to answer. He had no choice. Backed into a corner by his best friend and the person who mattered the most to him. What choice did he have?

Paul was back in the room almost as soon as John had finished speaking. "Your appointment is at 2pm today Sherlock. Mary will finalise everything with the hospital and then text you and Molly with the details later. Keep us posted, won't you?"

"Don't worry, I will" said Molly. "And I'm coming with you, Sherlock."

"It's fine. I'll be fine."

"No you won't. I'm coming with you the whole way through. John needs to know what is going on and I am going to make sure he has the whole story."

With that Molly kissed John and then Paul gently on the cheek and led Sherlock from the room. They said their goodbyes to Mary and headed out into the street.

"Why did you say you'd come with me, Molly? I'll be totally fine on my own."

"I know you would be, Sherlock, but we started this together and we will continue this together. I'm here for you. I'm not going to let you be on your own much as I know you'd like that. You've obviously endured the injuries alone but not the fall out. That's one thing John and I can be along side you for."


	7. Chapter 7

It was around 10.15am by the time they left John's surgery. They grabbed a cab back to Baker Street and headed up to the flat. Sherlock took his coat and scarf off and sat down in his favourite chair he closed his eyes and steepled his fingers under his chin. Molly smiled as she watched him. He had made it quite clear it was time for a mind palace visit. So she settled herself on the sofa, and pulled a book out of her bag. She didn't mind. It was a particularly good book which she had been enjoying and wanted to finish. She was happy to lose herself in it for a couple of hours before they had to head out.

She suddenly became conscious of a gentle voice "Molly. Molly. Wake up." She opened her eyes, and jumped. She was aware her book was half covering her face and Sherlock was leaning over her, gently touching her arm. "Molly."

"Yes Sherlock. Is there a problem."

"No. I just thought I'd join you. You look so comfortable and peaceful. Move over."

In her half awake state, Molly duly complied. She moved over and buried herself into the back of the sofa while Sherlock lay down on the edge. She was confused. He did not touch her. He did not put his arm around her. He just lay next to her and closed his eyes. Like it was totally normal for them both to do this. Molly watched him as he settled and was obviously asleep in no time. She was now fully awake and not ready to sleep again but was trapped by him. She didn't mind. She was enjoying watching him. She had never seen Sherlock sleep before, in fact she had often wondered if he ever slept at all, but he looked so peaceful. He was one of the most silent sleepers she had ever encountered. In fact he was so quiet, she had to check he was still breathing.

They remained there for quite some time until Molly heard footsteps. Mrs Hudson half walked in carrying a tray of sandwiches. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the both. "Sorry. I'll come back."

"No, please come in. I would get up and help you but I'm trapped" Molly whispered. "He's fast asleep and I've no way of getting myself out without waking him."

Mrs Hudson nodded and put the tray down "Can you get your arm out to eat your sandwich?" she uttered almost silently. Molly nodded and Mrs Hudson passed a plate over to her.

"Does he usually sleep in the day time?" Molly whispered

"Sometimes but not often. He usually sleeps in late. You've been getting him up early. Unless he's on a case, he doesn't usually rise until mid/ late morning so he's probably catching up. When he's on a case, he can go for days without sleep and then he crashes for literally 36 hours. Sometimes he sleeps for so long that I have to pop up and check he's still alive. He sleeps so quietly that sometimes I have to lean right over and literally press my ear to his mouth to hear him."

"Oh my, I did the same just now." Whispered Molly laughing and Mrs Hudson responded with a smile.

"I'll leave you to it. Bang the wall if you need anything. I'll hear you" and with that Mrs Hudson headed back out and down stairs.

Molly silently ate her sandwich, looking at the genius who lay next to her. He had fallen asleep on his left hand side, facing her, with his glasses on which were askew on his face. She smiled at him. She had never been in this close proximity to him for such a long period of time. They had worked together in the lab, but not so closely in each others space. She doubted whether many people had shared space this intimately with him ever before, but he seemed somehow content.

As she watched him, he moved a little, stretching his right arm that lay on top of him. His arm reached over and wrapped itself around Molly. He let out a small grunt before resuming his silent sleeping. Molly suddenly realised she was breathing more heavily than usual. Sherlock had his arm wrapped around her. She didn't know what to think. Was this just because he was sleeping and wasn't aware of what he was doing? Was he aware of what he was doing? Surely someone like Sherlock had control over his subconscious mind and so he was aware?

The remained there for quite some time, but Molly was unable to finish her sandwich as Sherlock's arm had her own arm trapped. She suddenly became aware of a pain in her right arm, the one she was lying on, and realised it was falling asleep. She had to move. She moved as gently as she could but she had so little space she had no choice but to disturb Sherlock, who let out a small murmur then gently opened one eye.

"I've got a dead arm" she said apologetically.

Sherlock nodded and allowed her space to move, but did not try and remove his arm from around her. Once Molly had got comfortable again she became conscious of him looking at her, smiling. Their eyes locked for quite some time before Molly became conscious Sherlock was getting closer. Molly shifted her weight to bring herself closer to him at almost the same movement that he did exactly the same thing. She felt him slip the arm he was lying on underneath her. She gently lifted her arm and lay it across him. Their bodies were touching, so close she could feel him, their lips millimetres apart.

"Comfy?" he asked her.

"Yes"

Sherlock closed his eyes again. Molly was finding it hard to breathe. Sherlock was so close. The man she had loved for so long was holding her so closely she could feel his manhood against her leg. She lay and watched his regulated breathing. So peaceful. So quiet. She rested her head against his, and closed her eyes.

Molly was shaken out of her contentment by a text from John giving her the details of Sherlock's appointment. She looked at her watch. It was 12.45. They had to leave in 15 minutes. She gently shook Sherlock to wake him

"C'mon sleepy head. Time to awaken."

Sherlock's eyes slowly opened and as he saw Molly next to him, he smiled. He pulled her closer in a real bear hug, and held her tightly. Molly didn't make any effort to pull away. She felt safe in his arms. She felt at home. As he gently released her, he gave her a very slight kiss on the cheek, then rolled himself over and off the sofa. He stood up onto his feet, and stretched as a tall man such as him would need to after being curled up on a sofa for so long. He held out his hand to Molly and helped her up.

Molly handed him the sandwich Mrs Hudson had brought up earlier as she ate the remainder of hers. They ate in silence, occasionally throwing a glance they hoped the other wouldn't see. Molly put her plate in the kitchen, then sat back down on the sofa to repack her bag. She saw her book on the floor and smiled to herself. She never did finish it. But they she reflected. What had just happened was much more exciting than any book so she didn't mind one little bit. She checked her watch. It was time to go.

Sherlock fetched his scarf and coat, and put it on. Molly rose from the sofa to get hers but not before Sherlock had grabbed it and was holding it out for her to put on. He then wrapped her scarf around her neck, tucked it in her coat and patted it down gently to make sure she was warm. She smiled at him and he smiled back.

They were suddenly brought back into reality by Mrs Hudson calling up the stairs "Sherlock, Molly, your taxi is here."


	8. Chapter 8

Sherlock hated hospitals. Well, to be more accurate, he liked hospital labs and morgues, but hated any other parts of hospitals. Molly felt the change in his demeanour the moment the stepped out of the taxi. He had become tense and nervous. She slipped her arm through his and led him through the maze of corridors that led to a door labelled 'CT scanning'.

"Mr Holmes? I'm Dr Channing. We've been expecting you. Dr Watson called me earlier. We're old colleagues from St Barts and we served together in Afghanistan. He asked me to fit you in as soon as possible. Come straight with me."

Molly let go of Sherlock's arm and nodded to him as he left with Dr Channing. She watched as he walked out the room. He was nervous. Sherlock was nervous. Maybe that's why he'd snuggled up to her earlier. For support. He'd always turned to John before for support, but obviously not by lying next to him on a sofa. It gave Molly a nice warm feeling inside to think that Sherlock had turned to her for protection and reassurance when he'd need it most. She mattered to him.

Good old John to have things sorted. He knew and understood Sherlock so well. For all his strength and bravado, Sherlock hid some demons that didn't surface too often. One of them was hospitals, which explained why John had to fix Sherlock up so often when he was injured. One time, he'd been quite badly injured in a fight with a criminal and after Lestrade had completed the arrest, John had encouraged Sherlock to go to the hospital to get xrayed and put back together. Sherlock point blank refused to go so John had called Molly and asked for help as Sherlock had, as well as some really nasty grazes, bruises and at least one broken finger, one cut which was particularly deep and long and John needed a second pair of hands to hold the wound together as he stitched. Molly had watched in awe as John quickly and neatly sewed Sherlock up and then they proceeded to clean Sherlock up, to clean his wounds and to fix his broken fingers. Molly had wondered that night whether Sherlock was the most sewn up person she knew - he'd had at least 150 stitches in various places by the hands of John. His fear of hospitals also explained why he'd never sought help when he'd been hurt so badly in Riyadh.

She text John and thanked him for sorting things, confirming that Sherlock had gone in with Dr Channing. She then grabbed a cup of coffee before settling down to finish the last 50 or so pages of the book she was so enjoying.

Molly flicked the final page over, read the last few lines and closed her book. It had ended as well as she had hoped, and she made a mental note that this was a book well worth revisiting when she felt a little lonely or low. A good old fashioned 'boy gets girl' romantic novel never did anyone any harm, so thought.

She picked up her empty coffee cup and placed it in the bin, returning to her seat just in time to hear voices walking out of the scanning room. Sherlock and Dr Channing were talking as they walked out. She could over hear them.

"So tell me Sherlock, we all read John's blog but is it real? I mean, he was a wreck when he came back from the war and we were all so worried about him. He's got a therapist and a limp which is rendering him almost disabled. Then suddenly word on the street is he's got a flat mate who is a detective, he's lost his limp and his stick and is running around London solving crimes for Scotland Yard. It all seemed a bit surreal. Then he started publishing this blog and we thought that you both must be totally loopy and sitting together writing stories."

"I can assure you Dr Channing that it is all totally real. Allow me." Sherlock then proceeded to deduce Dr Channing right from the fact he broke his left little finger when he was 5, through to the fact he has a dog called Skye, who he got from Battersea Dogs Home after answering an advert in the newspaper."

"John told you all of this?"

"Of course not. Shall I prove it?" He then carried on to deduce Dr Channings secretary perfectly. She sat in awe as he recounted her entire life almost perfectly.

Molly watched in silence. She'd seen Sherlock at work before but not for a long time, and never so animated, fresh and raw. She looked closely at Dr Channing and his secretary and had absolutely no idea at all how on earth he had done it.

"Amazing" said Dr Channing. "How on earth do you do that?"

"It's my job" Sherlock simply answered.

"Quite amazing. Anyway, will you both follow me into my office. I need to talk you both through the results of the scan now. There's quite alot there which can be seen. You must be Dr Hooper I presume?"

"Molly please"

"John had said he wanted to come himself but he couldn't get out of his surgery. He did say to me that you were a more than capable alternative though. Pathology isn't it? This should be right up your street. There's lots to see."

Molly didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Lots to see. That was a Dr's way of gently telling another doctor that something significant had taken place.

Dr Channing led them both into his small office and turned the computer screen so they could both see. Molly could vaguely pick out bits but relied upon Dr Channing's trained eye to talk them through it. Sherlock seemed almost switched off. She could see what looked like an element of fright in his eyes. She squeezed his hand under the table and received a squeeze back again, before letting go.

"I'll cut to the chase, Sherlock. That was one hell of a blow you received and it's done some significant damage. You're already aware of the optical nerve damage that it has done - your deterioration in vision is the proof of that. You also had a bleed on the brain at the point of impact." He scrolled down the screen and showed them what he meant. "This has healed to some extent, but there is a significant danger of further bleeding. You need to take care. Really take care. This will need close monitoring both by myself and a skilled ophthalmologist, involving regular check ups by us both initially every week and once we're confident your managed and under control it will become less frequent. I can recommend an excellent one to you. I'm going to contact John with a course of action as I know he is keen to be lead doctor on this and to manage your care himself, but I want you back here soon to re-scan you to check for any changes. It's Tuesday now. I'll book an appointment for Monday next week as I can't do Tuesday and we can review how you are then."

Molly felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She looked at Dr Channing "What is the prognosis?"

"Hard to tell Molly." He looked straight into Sherlock's eyes "You are a very lucky man. This could easily have been a fatal blow. There are many who would not have survived this. And even someone as strong as you has come out with significant damage. It is imperative that you take care. Enjoy yourself but no dangerous situations. Watch your blood pressure. No head banging or jumping off tall buildings, OK? I'm going to ask John to closely monitor your blood pressure initially so we can gauge that in relation to scan results. Any spike in blood pressure can be a warning sign so we need to watch it carefully. Now do either of you have any questions for me? Don't worry if you can't think of any now. I'm sure you can answer alot of them yourself Molly, as I'm sure you've encountered many injuries like this in your line of work, but John can help out too."

Molly looked at Sherlock, who looked very blank and shook her head. "We'll be fine. Just need some time to reflect on what you've just said". Sherlock shook Dr Channing's hand and was out of the door, eager to leave as soon as possible. Molly held back a little looking for reassurance.

"Please don't worry. The prognosis is positive. You just have to be aware of the dangers. Injuries like this can take months, even years to fully repair themselves. The best way to manage them is to take care of yourself, to take it easy."

"That's just the problem" said Molly "I've never known Sherlock to take it easy. In fact he's the epitomy of the exact opposite."

"Then you must try to get him to relax. A tall order I appreciate but please try. I'll update John as soon as you leave."

"Thank you Dr Channing, we really appreciate it." Molly shook his hand and left.

Sherlock was already outside the building and Molly found him leaning against the wall

"It's at times like this I wish I still had a smoking habit."

"Sherlock, you don't" snapped Molly. She immediately apologised for snapping. "Sorry, I didn't mean it. Just ... well, you know, just"

Sherlock nodded. "Just need to think. Thank you for looking after me, Molly. I'll pick you up 9am Sunday morning" and with that he was gone.

Molly watched him walk off. Of course he needed time to think. She was sure that deep down he knew the damage that had been done to him. He was the one with the impared vision. He was the one suffering from the headaches. Of course he knew what was happening to him. She picked up her phone and called John. It was engaged. Of course it was. Dr Channing was already speaking to him, so she rang back and left a voice mail for him asking him to call, as she headed back to St Barts to start a shift she was already 2 hours late for.

She was just arriving at St Barts when her phone rang. It was John. They talked about the scan and what Dr Channing had found.

"I suspected as much" said John "The symptoms are classic. He's clearly presenting so it hasn't been rocket science to work out what's happened. We really do have to look after him, Molly. I'm not sure he's telling us everything. If it's as bad as Dr Channing thinks then we have to watch out for headaches. Sure his vision is corrected now but if you have to let me know if he has any headaches at all, and I'll let Mrs Hudson know to keep a close eye on him too. Won't say anything to Mycroft or Lestrade yet. Although I'm sure Mycroft will already know exactly what is going on. Too much CCTV around the hospital for him not to know."

Molly bade John goodbye with a promise to keep an eye on him and headed into the lab for a long evening ahead.


	9. Chapter 9

Sherlock had taken himself back to 221b and in typical Sherlock fashion had thrown himself straight into his work. He didn't emerge from his microscope until the small hours, when he headed to bed, rising late morning the next day.

Mrs Hudson was up with a tray of tea as soon as she heard him move, and was straight out with "How are you feeling Sherlock" the moment she walked in.

"Ah, Molly or John? Which one has been talking?"

"Both. They're worried about you Sherlock"

"And they need not be. Now lets have some tea."

They settled down to have a drink and Sherlock could tell Mrs Hudson was dying to ask about Molly.

"Before you ask, no we're not in a relationship. We're good friends. I fell asleep next to her yesterday because I was tired and there was space on the sofa next to her."

Mrs Hudson laughed. "Of course Sherlock, as you wish. Are you still going out for the day?"

"Yes, on Sunday."

"And?"

"And what, Mrs Hudson? We're going out on my bike, and we shall eat fish and chips. We will then return home. I hope it does not rain"

"Oh Sherlock, you are funny. Really funny. I think you're secretly looking forward to it, aren't you?"

They sat and chatted for a little while longer, then they heard the turn of a key in the door. It was John. He'd headed over to see how Sherlock was and to check his blood pressure.

"For goodness sake, I am fine" protested Sherlock as John insisted he roll up his sleeve.

"They prove to me you are fine, and I will leave you in peace for the rest of the day"

Sherlock sighed. There was no point in arguing with John. He'd only get his way in the long run anyway. He rolled up his sleeve and let John do what he needed to do.

"Blood pressure is a little on the high side, Sherlock. Nothing to worry about but it's higher than I'd like it to be. You're coming over to mine tomorrow aren't you to collect your bike? I'll check it again then. If it's still up we'll be putting you on tablets to try and bring it down, and also looking at getting you away for a few days for a rest."

"Thank you John, I'm fine." And with that, Sherlock simply stood up, walked into his bedroom and shut his door.

Mrs Hudson and John watched as Sherlock left "He doesn't change" sighed John. "Mrs Hudson, we really do need to keep an eye on him, but he seems less than keen to be watched so covert observations it is. Please can you keep me posted on how you think he is. We may be worrying over nothing, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. We lost him once, I can't bear the thought of losing him again."

"Of course John, leave it with me."

John gave Mrs Hudson a peck on the cheek, said his goodbyes and was gone. Mrs Hudson cleared the tea tray away, looked around at the messy flat and smiled. At least he was home and she could keep an eye on him.

The rest of the day passed quietly with Sherlock lost in his experiments. Molly occasionally text to check how he was, and she was always responded to with a polite 'Fine thank you. SH'. She began to wonder if he'd simply copied and pasted a response and was sending the same to her and John each time they text!

Sherlock slept late on Thursday morning, and spent the rest of the day at Scotland Yard with Lestrade presenting the findings of his experiments on the Newcastle murder which he'd been working on. Lestrade had greeted Sherlock with a sarcastic comment about his new glasses "Getting old, Sherlock? Body failing you?"

Lestrade had listened in awe as Sherlock presented his findings proving the outcome of the Newcastle murders was wrong. The Mother's brother had indeed done it before emigrating to Australia almost immediately after and using his emigration as his alibi. The whole case was based upon a cup of tea found at the crime scene. Lestrade and the rest of the team had marvelled at the experiments Sherlock had undertaken and the case the 12 year old Sherlock had presented all those years ago, so accurate and intelligently and logically thought through even at that age.

"You were right, Sherlock. The Yard would never have believed the case a 12 year old boy put forward but you were right. Got any other cases you want to flag up to us as being wrong? I'm sure this isn't the only one you wrote up as a child."

"I have many, Lestrade, but for another day. My notebooks are all at my parents so at some point I will head down and collect them. It will take quite some time but I believe there are at least 35 cases which were incorrectly blamed on the wrong person." He got up to leave.

"Right you are, Sherlock." said Lestrade as they left the room "Still can't get over how different you look. You keeping the specs?"

Sherlock simply nodded and left.

By the time he left Scotland Yard it was nearly 5pm and it was dark. He needed to head to John's to get his bike, so he hailed a cab, and within 20 minutes arrived at John and Mary's. They were expecting him and Mary had prepared his favourite meal, knowing he'd probably not eaten all day. Sherlock's appetite was variable at the best of times but they hoped they could at least get a decent meal in him.

First thing John did was to make Sherlock roll up his sleeve to take his blood pressure. "Still a little elevated, Sherlock but better than yesterday. I'll keep an eye on it. You in on Saturday? I'll pop round and take it again then."

Sherlock, Mary and John sat down at the table and Mary served dinner. Cottage pie. John knew it was Sherlock's favourite and smiled as he devoured the whole plateful.

"Mary, you do make the best meals in London," Sherlock said putting his knife and fork down on his empty plate. Mary smiled as she cleared the table and took the empty plates out into the kitchen.

Mary returned to the table and sat herself down. She refilled her and John's glasses with wine and Sherlock's with water (he was driving after all), took a deep breath. "So, motorbike. You've not ridden that for a while. Need it for anything interesting?"

"If you must know, I am taking Molly out for the day." He took a large drink from his wine glass

"And? You can't just give us that simple amount of information.

"She didn't know I could drive and so as a thank you for helping me out I offered to take her out for the day."

"And where are you taking her?"

"I thought perhaps Brighton. She loves fish and chips."

"It sounds lovely, Sherlock. Does she have leathers and a helmet to wear?"

"I don't think so."

"Then she can borrow mine."

"Thank you Mary, that's very kind. I'm sure she will appreciate it."

The conversation soon steered away from Sherlock's planned trip. Sherlock could tell Mary and John were desperate to find out more, but for now that was all he was giving away. He spent most of the evening filling them in on the Newcastle murder case, and how he had solved it all those years ago.

"I'd have loved to see the look on the Yard's face if you'd tried to prove them wrong all those years ago, Sherlock. Well done you for correcting the miscarriage of justice and for bringing the right person to the fore." said John as he sipped on his glass of brandy. They'd moved away from the table and into the lounge to make themselves comfortable. "Are the Australian police onto it?"

"The arrest has taken place already. As soon as I told Lestrade over the phone a day or so ago that I had nearly all the proof I needed about the Mother's brother, he was onto the Australian police. I'd not even presented my evidence at that stage."

They talked into the late hours, and it was around 11pm that Sherlock made his excuses to leave. He kissed Mary lightly on the cheek before he and John headed down to the garage.

"Mary and I rode it quite a bit when we first got together. We've not had it out for a few months though so makes sense to get it checked over. Where you taking it?"

"Billy Wiggins is helping me out. He very useful with bikes, and he has a friend with a garage where he can work on it. I'm dropping it straight to him and he's going to get it looked over and serviced for me tomorrow. I'll pick it up first thing Sunday morning and go and collect Molly."

"Did you remember to sort out the insurance, Sherlock." John could see from the look in Sherlock's eyes, he had totally forgotten. "Good job I thought about it then" said John handing an envelope over to him. It came as no shock to him that Sherlock hadn't thought of the logistics behind his plan. After all, John had taken care of all the paperwork when they lived together, and had taken over most of it for Sherlock now he was back. Paperwork was not Sherlock's strong point! "It's all in there for you. Also, I have your license here too. It was one of the bits of paper they tried to take off me but I kept it. I guess you'll probably need to get a new one, but for now it will do. The forms to apply for a new one are in the envelope."

Sherlock put his helmet on, confused about the right order. Helmet then glasses or glasses on when he put his helmet on. John laughed as he tried to work it out. He finally plumped for glasses then Helmet and managed to pull some hilarious faces as he squeezed it on.

"Go safely Sherlock. I'll pop round tomorrow."

They wheeled the bike out of John's garage and it kicked into life the first time Sherlock tried it. He'd missed riding it. Missed the thrill of the adrenaline as he drove it. He bade John farewell and drove off.

I hope you're enjoying the story? Please let me know what you think with a review! Thank you x


	10. Chapter 10

Sherlock didn't rush to Billy's. He knew Billy would be up until the early hours so he decided to take advantage of the quiet streets and to head out for a drive. He wanted to get used to riding in glasses as the visual experience was so different to how it had been previously. It took him a little while but he soon found he had adjusted just fine. John had obviously taken good care of his bike, keeping it cleaned and well oiled. He presumed John had used it quite frequently as it had a few thousand more miles on the clock and it ran well as he drove it around. He was enjoying the freedom. He'd not had the space to do this for quite some time, and when he had, his vision had just not been good enough. He silently thanked Molly for helping him out as he zoomed around the streets.

He lost awareness of time as he rode, and suddenly became aware a roadside clock was telling him it was 12.30am. He was about 20 minutes ride from Billy's so he stopped and text Billy to tell him he was on the way. When he arrived, Billy was waiting for him. He'd forgotten it was Billy's first time seeing him in glasses too.

"Blimey, you're looking a bit dapper these days, Sherlock. On the pull or something."

"Yes, very funny Billy, Thank you." He handed over the keys and his helmet as Billy would need it. "I'll pick it up around 8.30am on Sunday morning if that's still OK?"

"Course it is, Sherlock. The old girl will be ready and waiting for you."

"Cheers Billy, see you then."

Sherlock turned and walked away. He debated hailing a cab but decided he'd rather walk instead. It was a cold but clear night and the stars were clearly visible. There was a frost starting to form on the ground and there was a light crunch as he took each footstep. It was about 25 minutes walk home so he picked up his pace, tightened his scarf around his neck and pulled the collar of his beloved Belstaff against the cold. His hands were already wrapped in his black leather gloves. His brisk footsteps echoed as he walked.

He arrived back at 221b at just after 1.30am, and again smiled as he climbed the stairs to his flat to find Mrs Hudson had been up and put his fire on, and opened his bedroom door so the heat would reach through. His flat was toasty warm as he took off his coat. 'Not my housekeeper' he murmured to himself as he hung his coat and scarf up.

He walked back into the kitchen to find a note from Mrs Hudson and a sachet of hot drink. It read 'Thought you might need a warm drink as you're out so late. x"

Sherlock flicked the kettle on and picked up the drink packet, grabbed one of the few mugs out of the cupboard which didn't have mould growing in it for his experiment, tipped the contents into a mug and waited for the kettle to boil. As he stood and waited he googled 'Fish and Chips in Brighton' to make sure he picked the very best restaurant for Molly. He flicked through the options and close a lovely looking restaurant overlooking the sea. The kettle boiled, and he filled his mug. He carried it into his bedroom, and put it down on the bedside table.

He headed into the bathroom to freshen up, before changing into his pyjamas, picking up his kindle and continuing to read his book on 'Best places to visit in Brighton.'

Sherlock didn't rise until late Saturday morning, only awoken by the sound of voices in the flat, followed by a knock on his bedroom door. Sherlock picked up his glasses from his bedside cabinet to see who it was. It was John. He had popped by to see him, and had made him a morning cup of tea.

Sherlock smiled. It had been an age since he was woken up with a cup of tea by John. John put the cup of tea down on Sherlock's bedside cabinet, and came and sat at the foot of Sherlock's bed like he had always done.

"Where's Mary?"

"Gone to town with her friend Sally. They've gone off wedding dress shopping and then they're having a facial and a manicure. She'll probably be home around 9pm so I thought I'd pop over and see you. Got to check your blood pressure today after all, so thought I'd kill two birds with one stone."

"Again?"

"Yes again, Sherlock. We need to know your stable and that there's no chance of a recurring bleed. So check your blood pressure I will, daily if I need to, until I know you are safe and there is no danger. Anyway, got any plans or do you fancy going out for a nice long walk along the Thames?"

"That sounds most acceptable, John."

"Good, now roll up your sleeve and lets check this blood pressure shall we?" Sherlock duly obliged as John attached the machine to his arm. "It's pretty consistent at least. On the high side, but at least it's steady." he said, putting the machine away.

Sherlock took his glasses off and put them on the bedside cabinet. "I'll just leap in the shower and be with you shortly. Thanks for the tea."

And with that, Sherlock was up and out of bed and in the bathroom. John headed back to the living room and sat himself down in his chair. He picked up the paper he had brought with him and started to read. He knew what Sherlock was like in the bathroom - worse than any woman and he'd be at least an hour getting himself ready.

It was a little over an hour later that a freshly washed and fully dressed Sherlock entered the living room, wrapping his scarf around his neck before pulling his coat on. "Ready John?"

Their walk took them right along the bank of the Thames in both directions, a fresh, brisk walk that took them a little over 2 hours. They always found plenty to talk about. Sherlock kept John highly amused with his observations of the people around them and the deductions he made. John particularly liked the one where Sherlock deduced the man who had recently had surgery for haemharroids. Sherlock couldn't quite understand why John was having such a fit of hysterics until he managed to get out "I know, I'm his doctor. How on earth could you tell?"

Inevitably the conversation got round to the subject of Molly. "So, are you all sorted for your day out tomorrow?" John casually asked as they neared the end of their walk.

"Yes, I think so, thank you."

"Mary's told me I have to ask. Will you pop round and see us on Sunday night to tell us how it went?"

"Maybe."

A maybe was as good as John could hope for. It was as good as a 'yes' in Sherlock's book and that would make Mary very satisfied. Sherlock was notoriously private about matters involving emotion. In fact, John couldn't ever recall a time when Sherlock had been quite so open about something. The fact he had admitted he was taking Molly out for the day was more than John had ever known him do.

Their walk continued almost all the way back to Baker Street, and they reached the pub they always used to frequent when John lived in Baker Street. They had had to swap to a different pub half way between the two houses once Sherlock had returned and John was living with Mary.

"A beer for old times sake?" said John as they reached the door "In fact, have you eaten today?"

"Not since we ate at your house last night"

"Then beer and a pie it shall be then" and John held the door open for Sherlock who entered with his usual flounce. John couldn't help laughing at Sherlock. As he'd walked into the warm room from the cold outside, his glasses had steamed up and he couldn't see a thing!

The land lord was delighted to see them "Sherlock! John! Welcome back. Beers on the house for you both. Not seen you in years. Thought you were dead to be honest, Sherlock."

"So did most people" John retorted back, giving Sherlock one of his looks. Sherlock simply mouthed 'sorry'.

Their evening was fun and a great trip down memory lane. They enjoyed each other company as it had been a while since the two of them had been out together without Mary. Sherlock adored Mary but was glad of some time on his own with John. He suspected John felt just the same. The time passed easily both of them unaware. It was only when John received a text from Mary asking why he wasn't home yet when she was that he realised it was almost 9:30pm. They'd been in the pub for over 6 hours chatting, eating and drinking.

"Best be gone. I'll be in all sorts of trouble when I get home. Now, have a fantastic day tomorrow, Sherlock. Please try and pop by later if you can. I know Mary will be desperate to hear about how it went."

Sherlock rolled his eyes at John and they headed out the door.

"Thanks for a lovely day, Sherlock. I really enjoyed it."

"Me too John. Me too."

As Sherlock walked in through the front door, he was greeted by Mrs Hudson, who pushed a bunch of flowers into his hand

"What are these for?"

"For Molly of course. You are taking her out for the day tomorrow are you not? You have to give her some flowers. Its what you do when you take someone out, Sherlock. Trust me."

Sherlock bent over and gave Mrs Hudson a kiss "Thank you"

"What time are you picking her up tomorrow?"

"I have to pick my bike up at 8:30am and then I get her at 9am"

"I'll be there to wave you off. Now, go and get some sleep and I'll see you in the morning. Good night Sherlock"

"Goodnight Mrs Hudson."

Sherlock took himself up to his flat, hung up his coat and scarf, took off his shoes, changed into his pyjamas and lay on his bed. He text Molly

_ I've got leathers and a helmet for you to wear on the bike tomorrow. Wear something slim fitting but warm for underneath and bring a coat to change into. See you at 9am. SH_

_ OK. Will do. Looking forward to it. See you at 9am. MH x_

Sherlock put his phone alarm on to wake him at 7.30am, settled under the sheets and closed his eyes ready for an early night. He had an adventure planned for the next day and he needed his beauty sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Sherlock was awoken by a shrill noise. It took him a moment to become aware of where he was. He stopped the alarm with a thump to his phone, and wandered into the bathroom to shower ready for the day ahead.

Once clean and dry, he checked his phone for the weather forecast - a clear sunny day, but chilly. He chose clothes he knew would give him warmth, but also sit well underneath leathers. Riding a motorbike could be seriously cold. He plumped for dressing down in skinny jeans, a close fitting shirt and a thin jumper.

He walked into the kitchen cleaning his glasses, to find a slice of toast and a cup of tea waiting for him. Mrs Hudson was sitting on the sofa in the living room. Sherlock smiled as he saw her. She was like a mother excitedly waiting to send her boy off on an adventure. No, she definitely wasn't his land lady. She was so very much more.

"I had to come and make sure you had had some breakfast and were wrapped up warm enough. Now, have you got the flowers I gave you to give to Molly?" She stood up and walked over to him, straightening his jacket and making sure he looked respectable.

"Yes Mrs Hudson" he said, munching on his toast. "And I've charged my mobile phone, been to the toilet, washed my hands and cleaned my shoes."

"Less of your cheek young man" she said with a big smile on her face. Sherlock began to wonder who was the more nervous of the two. He'd never done this before, taking someone out for the day that was, and the rather unfamiliar feeling of butterflies in his stomach was starting to rise. Mrs Hudson was fussing around the flat, moving things but not tidying.

He finished his toast and his cup of tea. "I must be going. See you later." He picked up his bag with the leathers and helmet for Molly along with his coat, scarf and gloves for later, remembered the flowers then gave her a peck on the cheek and headed out the door and down the stairs.

"Have a wonderful day. And remember, treat her well" she shouted after him.

"Yes Mrs Hudson" he shouted as he closed the front door.

Sherlock was at Billy's at just before 8.30am, he grabbed his bike and his helmet and set off to Molly's. Billy had done a fantastic job. His bike gleamed like he'd never seen before. 'Everyone seems very excited for my day out with Molly' he thought to himself as he zoomed through the streets.

Molly obviously heard the motorbike before she saw him and a wave of excitement hit her. She was at the front door of her flat as Sherlock pulled up. She took a sharp intake of breath as she saw him. He looked amazing clad in his leathers. She had never really seen him in anything other than his Belstaff and suits before, and seeing him clad from head to foot in leathers quite took her breath away. He looked, well, hot.

Sherlock took off his helmet, adjusted his glasses, ruffled his hair and climbed off his bike. He grabbed his bag and the flowers and walked up to Molly. He handed the flowers over to her and kissed her lightly on the cheek. He didn't say anything to Molly as he watched her pupils dilate.

"Thank you Sherlock, that was very thoughtful," she said, taking the flowers and welcoming him into her flat.

He delved in his bag and handed over Mary's leathers. He picked up Molly's coat, hat, scarf and gloves and packed them into the bag while Molly slipped the leathers on. He'd also borrowed Mary's boots which fitted Molly perfectly.

"How do I look?" she asked once she was fully ready

Sherlock looked at her. She looked amazing, not that he would ever articulate that to her vocally. He picked up his bag, held out his arm and Molly took it, grinning to herself.

"So where are we going?"

"For Fish and Chips."

"I LOVE Fish and Chips! That sounds lovely. Where?"

Again Sherlock chose not to answer. He just grinned to himself as Molly locked her front door and they walked out to his bike.

Within no time, the bag was stowed in the trunk, they were helmeted up and climbing aboard. As Molly wrapped her arms around Sherlock's waist he felt a warm glow come across him. There was something reassuring about Molly being wrapped around him. He had ridden his motorbike so often in the past but his pillion was normally John who chose to ride holding the handle at the back rather than by wrapping his arms around him! She rested her head on his back and he found himself snuggle into her for a moment before he remembered where he was. He started the engine and they set off.

He found himself strangely nervous. He tried to push the feeling away. This was just him riding his motorbike as he had always done, and he was just with Molly as he had been so frequently recently. So why was he feeling nervous. The butterfly feeling was in his stomach.

Molly found herself strangely nervous. She enjoyed the feeling of butterflies in her stomach and the excitement the adventure was giving her. She loved the feeling of having her arms wrapped around Sherlock as he rode his motorbike. She felt so comfortable with him and trusted his riding. She was still amazed that someone like him had bothered to learn the skill of riding a motorbike. It seemed almost too mundane for him. She wrapped her arms more tightly around him as they rode on.

It was a cold day, so they stopped just over half way at a motorway service station at Pease Pottage for a cup of coffee to warm up. They also needed to fill the bike up with fuel too. From the fact they were on the M23, Molly had worked out they were heading south. But she didn't want to know where they were going. She wanted the surprise to last as long as possible.

The journey down to Brighton from Baker Street was around 70 miles, and took about 90 minutes. With the stop, they arrived in Brighton at just after 11.30am. Sherlock pulled up at a house just off the sea front and helped Molly off the bike.

"The seaside. Thank you Sherlock, it's amazing. I love the sea side."

"Well, it seemed the most logical place to have fish and chips"

"I've arranged with Grace that we can leave the bike here and get changed here too. She's away at the moment so I have a key to her house. It's just so we can leave our leathers here, and warm up a little before setting off." He walked up to the front door of the house, pulled out a key and let himself in.

"I didn't know you had a friend in Brighton. Who is Grace?"

"Someone I helped out once. She'd been a victim of a particularly vicious attack and I helped bring the perpetrator to justice."

Molly smiled. Of course he'd helped her out. That's what Sherlock did. And people were always so grateful that they gladly returned the favour when he asked for their assistance.

They were soon stripping out of their leathers, and Molly found herself admiring Sherlock in a way she never had before. She'd never seen him in jeans before. He was always in suits and his Belstaff. And these weren't just any jeans, they were skinny cut. She looked in awe at his long, thin legs and his rather yummy bottom. She also enjoyed the shirt he was wearing. Again slim fit. There was not an ounce of fat on his slim, lean body. It was course of habit for her to be interested in people's bodies. After all, it was her job to study them and she understood the human body and it's make up much better than most. She'd never really seen him just in a shirt before. Through the fabric she was sure she could make out muscle definition in his arms and round his waist. Sherlock worked out? He was ripped and had a six pack? Surely not. But there was definite evidence. She knew he'd had to look after himself while he was away so perhaps this was the change from that. Now that was a bonus she wasn't expecting!

She had to pull her eyes away as he turned round to face her. He smiled at Molly. She knew he could read exactly what she was thinking. Darn him and his deductions she thought as she was broken from her rather pleasant string of thought.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes - I know I have taken an artistic liberty here but I knew where I wanted to go with this. Brighton's beach is NOT sandy, it's pebbly and gravely but I hope you will forgive me and the slight 'lie' about Brighton's beach being sandy is forgiven for what happens!**

They paid a quick visit to the bathroom, and were soon in their coats, scarves, and gloves ready for the day ahead. Grace's house was 5 minutes walk from the sea front and they walked briskly, chatting the whole way. Sherlock was telling Molly all about the Newcastle murder and how he had sorted the evidence with Lestrade. The arrest had taken place in Australia and the son had been released from prison.

It was a beautiful sunny day as they arrived at the sea front. There were a few people out walking their dogs although the chilly sea breeze had kept many people away. They stood looking out to sea from the promenade. Molly turned to Sherlock and grinned as she slipped her arm through his then rested her head on his arm. He looked down at her and smiled. She looked so content.

"Hungry?" he asked her after a few minutes. They could have happily stood there for so much longer just watching the sea breaking on the beach had it not been for the fact Sherlock was conscious Molly was beginning to shiver.

"Oh yes"

Sherlock led Molly the few minutes walk it was to the restaurant he had picked out. They walked in and Molly burst out laughing as Sherlock's glasses steamed up when they walked from the cold outside air into the warm air inside. Sherlock made a mental note to start experimenting with different chemical compounds to try and discover something he could coat his specs in to stop that from happening all the time. Still, it was nice to see Molly laugh like that, so perhaps he might not try too soon, he thought.

They sat down at a window table overlooking the sea and immediately ordered two lots of fish and chips and cups of tea. The restaurant was everything the website had said it would be. Along with one or two other options, he had found it initially based upon Grace's recommendation and then had used the homeless network to check it out. The feedback was favourable and so it had been chosen. Molly beamed at him as they sat talking. When the meal arrived, it was exactly as Grace had described.

"I think these might be the best fish and chips I have ever eaten" announced Molly as she was half way through her meal. Sherlock was enjoying his too although is appetite was much smaller than hers. She sighed as she put her knife and fork down for the final time. The look on her face told Sherlock he had made the correct decision on where to eat.

They ordered coffee and sat drinking it in silence, watching the sea and the people walking by. Neither felt the need to talk, both totally content with just being in each other's company. It was not an awkward silence, more one of those times just being together was enough to keep them both happy. A silence which did not need to be filled with anything more than them both breathing and just being.

At the end of the meal, Sherlock paid the bill. They put their coats and scarves back on and carried on their walk along the sea front. It was such a lovely day and again they both walked in silence. It was as if talking was no longer needed.

They had been walking for about 10 minute when Sherlock felt Molly's hand slip into his own. At first she took him by surprise, but he made no effort to pull away. They walked hand in hand for the next 30 minutes or so, laughing at various people they could see as Sherlock deduced them. The one which made them laugh the most though, was the one that Sherlock needed to do no deductions about at all. It was the man who looked EXACTLY like his dog. It was like they were twins. Molly was trying to suppress her giggles as they walked passed him, and once well past the two of them fell into hopeless fits of laughter.

Once their laughter had subsided, Molly leaned into Sherlock and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before they carried on walking. Sherlock felt a warm glow rise up inside him and he squeezed Molly's hand.

All of a sudden Molly let out a little gasp, then Sherlock heard her say "C'mon Sherlock" and she pulled him into the shop they were walking by.

Before he had chance to react, Molly had chosen two spades and two buckets and was paying for them. "We're going to make a sandcastle" she excitedly announced as she pulled him out of the shop, across the road and onto the promenade, before he'd even had chance to register what was going on or could offer any kind of protest.

They found the stairs down to the beach itself, and within no time at all, Molly had started to dig the sand and put it in her bucket. Sherlock was standing looking down at her with an almost shocked look upon his face.

"Are you going to help me or not?" Molly giggled, as she turned her bucket upside down for the first time, and tapped it on the bottom. She pulled the bucket away and held her hands out to Sherlock and presented her sandcastle with a sprightly "Ta da." The activity continued in this vein for the next few minutes as Molly build up a neat line of sandcastles, presenting each one in the same way to a totally bemused Sherlock.

She reached up and pulled his hand downwards, encouraging him to join her.

Sherlock eventually spoke "You know, this is all very well, but if we're going to build a sandcastle then why not do it properly?"

"What do you mean"

"These are too small. I'm thinking we need a kind of sand palace."

And with that, he whipped a notebook out of his pocket and proceeded to draw a sketch of the idea he had had. Molly had never seen him draw before. He was good. Really good.

It wasn't long before they both set about re-creating the sketch on the pad, complete with towers, turrets, shell windows, an inner courtyard and an outside wall. They lost themselves with it, laughing and giggling as different parts began to build up and cursing as bits fell off as the sand dried out and they had to fetch more water from the sea to keep it damp. It was the best fun they had both had in a long time. Neither felt the need to speak throughout and every so often one would feel the touch of the other as a hand was placed gently over the others to shape the sand, or to pat it down. The end result was magnificent. It truly was a sand palace.

When they had finished and stood up, they were conscious they had been joined by several people on the sand, who were watching them at work. They were given a round of applause.

Molly stepped back to take some photos on her phone first of Sherlock's drawing, then of their creation. When she had done so, someone tapped her on the shoulder and offered to take a photo of her and Sherlock next to it. Molly handed over her phone and stood in between Sherlock and the 'sand palace' to have the photo taken. They wrapped their arms around each other and pulled each other in tightly, the photo showing the emotions and feelings that were running between them both at that exact moment. A captured moment of pure happiness, fun and enjoyment, of friendship, warmth and affection.

Once they had completed their creation, those watching started to drift away until it was just Sherlock and Molly standing on the beach, hand in hand, admiring their amazing creation while looking out to sea. They were lost in the beauty of the moment.

Molly's arm moved closer to Sherlock and she entwined her fingers into his. She turned to face Sherlock and looked him straight in the eyes "If I forget to tell you later, I had the most amazing day today. Thank you." She kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you Molly Hooper. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I did too." and he kissed her cheek. He did not pull away and was conscious that he was breathing heavily almost straight into Molly's ear. He listened to her breathing. She was reacting the same way. Molly's head turned slightly and their lips brushed each others for a fleeting moment. Their eyes met and Sherlock was conscious Molly's pupils were dilated fully. He lifted his thumb up to her wrist and pressed. Her pulse was elevated.

Within seconds, their lips met again. This time neither pulled away. The first kiss was again a light touch which lasted for one or two seconds. The second time it was a with a little more strength and lasted for longer.

Sherlock pulled away slightly and looked again into Molly's eyes. She was smiling at him. He felt her free arm wrap around his waist as he moved his free arm around hers.

"I've not done this before, Molly" said Sherlock gently

Molly simply put her finger to his lips and smiled at him, her eyes warm and welcoming. She pulled him in closer and their lips met again. This time neither pulled away and the kiss was free and loving. They both freed up the hand they were holding and wrapped that arm around each other.

They lost themselves in each other, oblivious of the cold, oblivious of the fact that it was getting late and the light was failing rapidly. All that mattered was each other. Their kiss was intense, passionate, expressive. Sherlock was learning from Molly, responding to every reaction she gave him. Each type of kiss made her react differently - lips closed, lips open, tongues, kissing the side of her mouth. All elicited a different reaction or noise from Molly that Sherlock made a mental note to catalogue later.

It was Molly giving out a slight shiver that broke them from their embrace. Sherlock glanced at his watch and saw it was almost 5pm. They'd been on the beach for well over 2 hours in total, and had been kissing for well over 30 minutes. He became conscious of just how cold he had got.

Still holding Molly close to him, Sherlock said "Molly, I think we might have got a little lost in ourselves. We've been out here for quite some time and the light is failing rapidly. I think we should head back to Grace's, warm up and then head home."

Molly nodded, their lips met one more time for a brief kiss and then they started to walk along the beach and up the steps to the promenade, hand in hand. They stopped at the top of the steps to take in the view of the sea one more time, they kissed briefly again before walking back into town and up to Grace's where Sherlock's bike was still sitting on the drive waiting for them both.

They were soon inside, making a quick cup of coffee to warm them up. Molly pulled on Mary's leathers over the top of her day clothes while Sherlock watched, smiling.

"What?" she asked

"Oh, nothing. I was just observing."

"You can observe me all you like, Sherlock Holmes," said Molly with a wicked grin on her face.

It was only a matter of minutes later, much warmed up, that Sherlock and Molly were leathered up and ready to go. "We're dropping the bike back at John and Mary's if that's OK? I've nowhere to store it at Baker Street."

"That's fine, be great to see them both."

They climbed aboard the bike and Sherlock started the engine, ready to head back. Molly's arms wrapped around his waist. Again she leaned herself into him, her head to one side, resting on his back. Sherlock held his hand over hers for a few moments, before letting go, holding onto the handle bars and setting off back to London.


	13. Chapter 13

They didn't stop on the journey back to London. The traffic was pretty clear so they kept going. Molly felt more safe and secure riding with Sherlock than she had thought she would. He'd obviously ridden a lot but it still amused her that he'd wasted his valuable brain power learning something as mundane as riding a bike and driving a car.

They were back at John and Mary's in around an hour and a half from setting off from Brighton. Molly squeezed Sherlock tightly around his middle as they pulled onto John and Mary's drive and she saw the curtains twitch from where Mary had heard the engine on the drive and peaked to see if it was them arriving back. Mary had the front door open and was standing on the top step waiting for them before Sherlock had even turned the engine off. Molly jumped off the back and ran up the stairs to see Mary. John had opened the garage door for Sherlock and they were now wheeling the bike inside.

"Good day?" John casually asked Sherlock.

"Yes thanks, John. Most acceptable."

"Right, lets get you out of these leathers. Are you leaving them here with your bike? Probably makes it easier. If you are, just leave them on that hook over there. I'll pop inside and get the kettle on while you get sorted."

"If that's OK with you. Thank you." Sherlock went to the trunk and got his bag out. He then stepped out of his leathers and hung them up as John had said. He left his boots there too, and then headed on up the internal stairs into the kitchen. John was waiting for him with a cup of coffee.

"The girls are in the lounge talking. Here's your coffee. Now, while you're here, lets take that blood pressure."

"Again, John?"

"Yes, again Sherlock. And it's going to go on for quite some time I'm afraid."

As usual, there was no point in Sherlock protesting, so he simply rolled up his sleeve and presented his right arm to John. John took the reading and then whistled slightly as he read the result.

"You've rather overdone things today I think, Sherlock. Your blood pressure has shot through the roof. Time to take it easy for a few days I'm afraid."

"I hardly think riding to Brighton, eating fish and chips, building a sand castle and then riding back is over doing it, John."

"You built a sand castle?"

"Well, more of a sand palace to be honest. It was Molly's idea."

"Well castle or palace is of no interest. The facts are here. You've overdone it. Sherlock, with an injury like yours you just can't afford for your blood pressure to spike or to remain high for a long period of time. You aren't wearing glasses for fun, Sherlock. This is serious, OK? So please, take it easy for a few days, and at the first sign of any headaches, you MUST tell me, OK?"

Sherlock didn't respond, he took a sip of his coffee. "Sherlock, I mean this. This is serious, OK? I'm sure you've had a lovely day with Molly and your mind is probably elsewhere at the moment but I am appealing to you to do this, OK?"

Sherlock nodded.

While this conversation was going on in the kitchen, Mary and Molly had headed into the lounge, shutting the door behind them. "So, how was it?" Mary came straight out with it, before she and Molly had even sat down.

"It was lovely. Well, it was more than lovely to be honest. It was brilliant. He took me to Brighton to have fish and chips."

"And?"

"And what?"

"What did you do, where did you go? I want to know about it all, OK?"

"Well, we left the bike at someone called Grace's house, Sherlock knows her from a case apparently, and we walked to the sea front and then along the promenade for a bit. We went to a lovely restaurant and had fish and chips. Then we headed back along the promenade. He was hilarious Mary, deducing everyone we saw. At one point I was almost crying with laughter. Then I spotted some buckets and spades so I bought them and we went onto the beach and made a sand castle. Well actually it was more of a sand palace than a sand castle. Look here are the photos." Molly pulled out her mobile phone and showed Mary the three photos that had been taken, starting with Sherlock's drawing, through to the one of the sand palace Molly had taken. Finally she showed Mary the photo of her and Sherlock standing next to the sand palace, wrapped in each others arms.

"You two look very close, Molly," Mary said as she saw it.

Molly didn't answer but just looked down at the photo with a smile on her face.

"Molly, did you kiss him?"

"Yes"

"Did he respond?"

Molly took a deep breath. "Yes, Mary, he did. I didn't expect it, but he did. Oh my god, Mary, it wasn't just a little kiss either. We were in each other's arms, on the beach, for half an hour. It was lovely. It was heated. It was actually quite passionate. Sherlock, passionate. Who'd have thought it, eh?"

"And?"

"Mary, do you really think there will be an 'and'? This is Sherlock. We had a lovely day, I have the most wonderful memories, but I do wonder if he'll soon find a case and be back to the usual Sherlock in no time. Yes, I have absolutely loved it. Yes, I would love for it to continue. Am I being realistic about it carrying on though? I am so grateful for what has happened already. It's more than I could ever have hoped for."

"Molly, you know, I think he might surprise you. I don't swallow any of this sociopath business. I think he has huge capacity to love. He just needs someone to be patient with him."

Molly rubbed her nose thoughtfully. "He's already gone so much further than I thought he would. When I asked him where he was taking me on his motorbike, I thought he'd just laugh and walk off, but he didn't. And we've had the most wonderful day. Who would have ever thought that Sherlock Holmes would take me out for the day, let alone kiss me the way he did. My knees are still weak. It was amazing!"

"There you go you see. Go with it Molly. See what happens."

Mary and Molly were conscious they could hear voices in the hall and it wasn't long before John and Sherlock joined them. Sherlock was unaware because John was behind him, but John made a notion to Mary that he needed her to talk to Sherlock while he talked to Molly. John slipped Molly into the hall.

"Molly, two seconds. I don't want to spoil your lovely day but I just need to register with you that Sherlock's blood pressure has significantly raised over the last day or so."

"Ok John, it's noted. I'll keep an eye on him."

"Thanks Molly." And with that they headed back into the room to find Sherlock and Molly deep in conversation.

"You back again?" said Sherlock to Molly. Nothing got past him. "I'm fine John, OK? I promise I'll rest."

John and Molly nodded to each other, and the conversation between the four of them flowed freely for quite some time, laughing and enjoying each others company. It was Sherlock who finally said "Thank you for a lovely evening, but I believe Miss Hooper has work tomorrow and I have to return her safely to her flat."

The goodbyes were said and as they left Mary gave Molly an encouraging thumbs up.

"Taxi or walk?" Sherlock asked Molly

"I'd like to walk. It's only half an hour or so to mine from here and it's a lovely evening. I've also spent too long bent over on the back of a motorbike and I think my legs would welcome the exercise."

"I'm inclined to agree. It's been quite a while since I rode a bike and it can leave you with quite a stiff back." Since he had left his leathers at John's and Molly had returned those she'd borrowed to Mary, there was no heavy bag to carry.

They started their walk back to Molly's and Sherlock did not pull away when Molly again slipped her hand into his. They talked about the day. About how nice it was. Sherlock told Molly many interesting things about the day which she had not herself observed. She listened in awe to the amazing man walking next to her who had had exactly the same experience as her today but who had managed to glean so much more out of it. About the people who ran the restaurant, the things that had observed had happened on the beach over the years, all worked out from the stone in the wall, the fact the owner of the shop they bought the buckets and spades from was being blackmailed by the owner of the shop next door, and so on.

They talked the whole way to Molly's front door, where Sherlock gave her a kiss on the cheek, and turned to leave.

Molly turned, put the key in the lock and opened the front door. She put one foot in and then turned back to Sherlock. "Would you like to come in for coffee?"

"I'd like that very much Molly, thank you." Molly held the door open and they both walked in.


	14. Chapter 14

Molly popped the kettle on and then walked back over to the sofa to take her shoes off. "Make yourself at home. You know where everything is." She walked over to the fire and started the process of lighting it. It was a cold night with a frost due, but the flat was not too chilly as Molly had left the heating on. The fire was soon roaring. Molly went into her bedroom, and changed out of what she had been wearing into a tracksuit which was much more comfortable. Once she had done this, she returned back into the kitchen to make the coffees.

Sherlock did indeed know where everything was in Molly's flat. He'd spent several days and nights staying there immediately after the fall. He looked around at the familiar layout and setting, remembering the initial shock he had secretly felt immediately after the fall. The feeling of being separated from John, from his life. The knowledge that the three people he had sacrificed so much for believed him to be dead in the mortuary at St Barts. That John would have been sitting in Baker Street alone, staring at his chair. If it hadn't been for Molly he'd never have survived. What they all believed had happened would have been reality. But instead, thanks to this brilliant little pathologist, he was standing there today, living and breathing.

He snapped himself back into the here and now, lay his coat on the same chair he had always put it in when he was staying there, and put his shoes in the same space by the door.

He subconsciously rubbed his aching back before moving his hand to take his glasses off and rub his forehead which had also begun with a dull ache.

"Headache?" asked Molly carrying the coffee through. She put the two coffees on the floor, one by Sherlock's feet and the other down by where she was going to sit.

"No" Sherlock lied. "Just brushing my hair out of the way." He put his glasses back on, and sat himself down on the sofa. He picked up a paper from the day before and started to read.

Molly joined Sherlock sitting down, and put her feet up on the coffee table in front of them both. No words were spoken between them; none were needed. They were so comfortable in each other's company. At first she sat a little distance from him and just watched him read, as she sipped her coffee. He was fascinating to watch. She observed as he read, at great speed, and she could almost see his brain deciding what was important and what wasn't. Unimportant things were immediately deleted; interesting or useful facts logged and catalogued into his mind palace, ready for instant recall should he need it.

Molly's attention moved to watch the flickering of the fire, it's soporific effects soon overtaking her. A wave of tiredness swept over Molly as she watched him, and without giving it a second thought, she shuffled herself closer to Sherlock and snuggled into his side. To her surprise, his left arm stretched out and wrapped itself around her. She glanced at Sherlock to see that, apart from moving his arm, he was still engrossed in his newspaper, reading as intensely as before.

The warmth of the flat, and the comfort of being snuggled into Sherlock were too much for Molly and she closed her eyes, drifting off into a peaceful, exhausted sleep.

It was 20 minutes or so later that Sherlock finished reading the paper and became conscious that Molly's sleeping form was next to him. She was very deeply asleep. He very gently moved himself away from her so as not to wake her, and went into her bedroom, where he pulled back the duvet and prepared the bed for her. He then returned to the lounge, slipped his arms under her body and gently carried her to her bedroom. He placed her softly down into her bed, and pulled the duvet up around her, before planting a gentle kiss on her forehead and saying "Good night Molly Hooper". He silently closed her bedroom door.

Back in the lounge, he turned off the fire, took the two mugs into the kitchen, and then sat on the sofa and pulled on his shoes and coat before seeing himself out, hailing a taxi and heading back to Baker Street.

Early the next morning Molly awoke and found herself in bed. She had absolutely no idea how she'd got there. The last thing she could remember was snuggling up next to Sherlock on the sofa and... OH MY GOD, Sherlock. The realisation suddenly hit her. She panicked and for a moment and then dared to look under the covers. She was relieved to see that she was still in the same clothes that she was wearing when she was sitting on the sofa. He'd not undressed her, he'd obviously simply carried her to her room, and put her to bed. Nothing more. She text him.

_Thank you for a lovely day yesterday. I'm sorry I fell asleep. Thanks for putting me to bed... and not getting me undressed. MH x_

Sherlock was aroused from his sleep by the sound of a text message coming in. He reached for his phone and tried to read the text. It was blurry. He cursed his bad eyesight before reaching for his glasses and putting them on. The text suddenly cleared. He read Molly's text and smiled.

_You are welcome. Of course I didn't get you undressed. You were sleeping and therefore a dead weight and uncooperative. SH_

He changed his mind before sending, deleted part and then sent it.

_You are welcome. Of course I didn't get you undressed. You were sleeping. SH_

Sherlock roused himself from his bed, remembering that John had mentioned something to him about an Ophthalmology appointment. He couldn't remember when it was

_What time is my appointment? SH_

_3pm at City Hospital in the Ophthalmology department. You are seeing Prof McCartney(ophthalmologist) and Dr Channing. JW_

_By the way, how did you get on with Molly after you left us last night? JW_

_Fine thank you. SH_

_Good. Just in case you were thinking of it, I'm sure she'd love you to take her lunch today if you're not busy. JW_

He put his phone down on the bedside cabinet. Sherlock had not considered taking Molly any lunch. He was actually quite looking forward to spending much of the day with a batch of toenails Molly had given him to experiment on. But there was something which niggled him. Yes, he actually would like to take Molly some lunch. He looked at his watch. It was just after 8am. He could spend 4 or so hours with his toenails before heading to see Molly at around 1.30pm. Then lunch with Molly before heading to City Hospital. He picked up his phone

_Lunch? 1.30pm? SH_

_That sounds lovely. Thank you. MH_

That was it decided. Without any more thought, he climbed out of bed, and put on his second best dressing gown. It was a chilly morning, so he lit the fire, boiled the kettle for a cup of tea, pulled his bag of toenails out of the fridge and settled himself down at the kitchen table. He lifted the bag of nails. All shapes and sizes. 'Good old Molly' he thought to himself 'she knows just how to keep me happy.'

At 12.00, Sherlock's alarm went off on his phone, and he pulled himself away from his microscope. There were pieces of toenail all over the table, all proving to have been very useful in his experiments and findings. He was now aware of the best way to dissolve nails and leave no trace, as well as the best way to make them expand and become much bigger. There was also an interesting smell hanging around the flat from all the different chemical compounds he had used and mixed for his experiments.

He stood up, stretched his slightly stiff back and rubbed his head which still had the same dull ache from the day before. He reached up into the cupboard and pulled out a packet of paracetemol before popping a couple in his mouth and swallowing. He wandered into the bathroom, and set the shower running, before heading into his bedroom and grabbing some clothes. He headed back into the bathroom once he was sure the water would be warm, undressed and stepped into the shower. The warm water was soothing on his aching head as he washed his hair and cleaned himself.

An hour later, he was dressed with his coat and scarf on, ready to head to St Barts. He stopped at Speedy's cafe next door on his way, picking up the sandwich he had texted down and ordered in advance. He had ordered Molly tuna which was her favourite.

He arrived at the lab at almost exactly 1.30pm, to find Molly not there. She was finishing off an autopsy in the mortuary so he wandered through to join her. Sgt Sally Donovan was with her, taking notes. Sherlock smiled at Molly as he entered, ignoring Sgt Donovan completely.

"Oh, hello, Sherlock" Molly said cheerfully as he wandered in "Just finishing this off. A body found in the Thames, washed up this morning. Sgt Donovan is wanting clues and help on it so I've just been telling her what I can work out."

"Going for the intellectual look now are we? Glasses make you look old." asked Sgt Donovan almost sneeringly. Sherlock simply stared back at her before heading over to the table Molly was standing at.

"May I?" asked Sherlock leaning over the body

"Feel free, please" said Molly stepping back to let him look.

Within seconds Sherlock was rolling off his deductions. "The victim is aged around 35. Appearance is deceptive as these lines around the eyes age her considerably. Cause of death almost certainly poisoning looking at the fingernails. They are in tact with no marks, implying no significant fight was put up. Therefore cyanide or some other such fast acting substance. Involved in a same sex relationship for approximately 7 years to a female who was around 3 inches shorter than her, but significantly heavier in build. Married to this individual for around 4 months. Her job was as a solicitors secretary and I'd say she was on her way to work when she was abducted so she'll have been reported missing somewhere around 10am yesterday morning. Her murderer was almost certainly the brother of her wife who did not approve of their marriage or the fact they were looking to conceive their first child with the help of a sperm bank. Death will have occurred within minutes of the abduction, with the poison administered through a drink which he will have given her, possibly while she was in the back of his car. He's driven her a distance of around 5 miles before throwing her into the river. The DNA on her skirt will prove to be his, as will the fact you will find her DNA on the left hand side back passenger seat belt of his car"

Sgt Donovan looked at her ipad and scrolled through some records. "Yes, there was a reported abduction yesterday morning. One Olivia Kent. Says she's 35, a solicitors secretary who was on her way to work, and that she married in September to one Holly White." She looked at him with a mix of disgust, amazement and horror. Within seconds she was on her radio, contacting the station. "Freak's here and he's identified the victim, cause of death, possible murderer and motive all with one look. I'll bring the notes in shortly but please can you send me more details on Olivia Kent who was reported missing yesterday morning."

Once her conversation was over she simply nodded to Molly, ignoring Sherlock completely and left the morgue.

"I wish she wouldn't call you that."

"I'm used to it. It's not a problem. It just gives me a great satisfaction to prove I'm right. Sandwich?"

"Thank you" said Molly taking the sandwich from Sherlock's hand. "Ooh, Tuna. My favourite, thank you."

It seemed perfectly normal to Sherlock and Molly for her to be eating her lunch in the morgue while he kept her company, like they were totally at home there.

"Spent the morning working on those toe nails you gave me."

"Anything interesting to fill me in on about them?"

They spent the next half an hour discussing his findings regarding the toenails, totally lost in their own world not noticing that Sgt Donovan had returned into the room and was watching them with interest. Surely not? Surely Sherlock and Molly had not become that close? They were sitting too close to each other. Sgt Donovan coughed and Molly and Sherlock were both snapped out of their conversation.

"I need you to sign off the paperwork before I go, Molly" she said thrusting her ipad and a stylus in front of Molly. Molly duly signed and handed it back. Sgt Donovan looked enquiringly at them both, particularly at Sherlock, before turning and leaving, almost breaking down the door as she went.


	15. Chapter 15

Sherlock and Molly turned to each other and laughed as she left. "Well, someone's not impressed with your deductions today" said Molly with a smile. "But I have to get back to work. Thanks for lunch Sherlock, it's been lovely."

"Same time tomorrow?" he asked as he put his coat on

"That sounds lovely. Yes please. What are you doing for the rest of the day?"

"Ophthalmology appointment at City Hospital. John's orders."

"I wish you'd told me, Sherlock. I'd have come with you"

"I'll be fine Molly". He lent over and kissed her lightly on the cheek and with that he was out of the lab, his Belstaff flapping dramatically behind him. Molly watched him go with a smile on his face. He didn't change. He was still as much of a drama queen as he had always been, but she couldn't help feel she was starting to get to know the person underneath the facade.

Sherlock arrived at City Hospital just before his appointment time. He hated hospitals. They reminded him of experiences he'd tried to delete from his mind palace. Experiences from the past. Relapses... his mind wandered for a few moments as he remembered smatterings of things. Of flash back moments. Of rehab and the look of disappointment on Mycroft and his parents faces. But that was all in the past now. He had moved on. He was in a good place now. He made a mental note to try and disassociate those past memories from his current situation.

Sherlock became aware of something pulling him out of his mind palace. Dr Channing was standing next to him, introducing him to Prof McCartney, consultant ophthalmologist specialising in optical damage due to head injury. Sherlock blinked a couple of times, registering what they Dr Channing had said to him, before they indicated to move on and led Sherlock into a consulting room.

"Dr Watson has sent through your latest blood pressure readings. They're on the high side. I'd like to take your blood pressure again today please if I may. We'll also arrange to have some blood taken from you to be sent for testing too. Roll up your sleeve please."

Sherlock duly took off his coat and suit jacket and did as he was told. There was the familiar tightening around his arm as the test was undertaken. As Dr Channing took the cuff of his arm, a nurse moved in with a tourniquet and started the procedure of doing Sherlock's blood test.

Dr Channing spoke "It's very elevated again today, Sherlock. Same level as yesterday. Any other symptoms at all?"

Sherlock considered lying. He was getting rather tired of being poked or prodded or having a cuff stuck on his arm every 5 minutes, but common sense prevailed. "I've got a dull headache."

"How long have you had this?" asked Prof McCartney

"About 36 hours."

"Where is the pain situated?"

Sherlock indicated to a point on his head.

"This is going to need looking at. The pain is centred pretty much at the impact point, and it may well all tie in with the elevated blood pressure reading that Dr Watson took yesterday, and what we are also seeing on your reading today. Any worsening optical problems?"

"Not that I've noticed."

"Well that's something at least. Lets be having a look at you then" Dr McCartney wheeled the ophthalmoscope to Sherlock and got him to place his chin on the rest. "I'm not going to give you dilating drops today if you've got a headache already. The light will only make it worse. Lets see what I can see without it." Prof McCartney shone a bright light into Sherlock's eyes and looked deeply into the backs of his eyes. He moved the ophthalmoscope with expertise around and was finished within 5 minutes. He sat back and wrote his notes up, before taking Dr Channing off to talk to him in a side room.

When they had finished speaking, they invited Sherlock to join them in the side room.

"We have Dr Watson here on speaker phone too" explained Dr Channing. "Can you hear us all OK, Dr Watson."

"Yes I can" responded John

"We've taken a good look at the back of Sherlock's eyes. The damage we can see supports the results of the CT scan. There is some cause for concern. Today's blood pressure reading supports the elevated reading you found yesterday Dr Watson. Sherlock is also presenting today with a dull headache centered at the impact point, and all elements together present us with a picture that there is some activity occurring which we do not wish to see.

"Therefore, it is our recommendation that Mr Holmes be prescribed blood pressure tablets and also that within the next few days, is taken out of London for a break. Ideally this should happen with immediate effect, but if that is not possible then at least by the weekend. We also recommend that with immediate effect he rest up as much as possible with no strenuous exercise. We would like to see him again on Friday to check his progress.

"Sherlock. Dr Watson. Does all of this make sense and is it clear to you?"

Sherlock nodded and John responded with several questions regarding the ongoing prognosis and care which Sherlock should undertake. The consensus was that the prognosis was good, but only if Sherlock took it easy and listened to their advice.

The conversation ended with John asking Sherlock to pop round and see him later which Sherlock agreed to do. Sherlock thanked Prof McCartney and Dr Channing for their time, and left the hospital to head to see John.

The taxi ride to John's took a little longer than usual due to the traffic, so he arrived well after 5pm, darkness well established and the clear sky meant the temperature had already started to drop ready for the evening's frost. Sherlock was welcomed on the door step by Mary, who explained John was still on his way home from work. Mary took Sherlock's coat as he walked into the kitchen and went to hang it up. There was also someone else sitting at the kitchen counter. Molly. John had obviously contacted her and filled her in. For a moment he felt cross with John.

She walked up to him and hugged him tightly. He reciprocated the hug and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He sat down at the kitchen counter next to her.

"How's your headache?"

"Much better" He lied. It was one thing telling the truth to the doctors at the hospital. It was a whole different ball game telling the truth to Molly and John who would fuss and gush over him, and he just didn't want that. He actually just wanted to get on with everything as normal. Even having to answer questions was dull.

John arrived home about an hour after Sherlock had arrived, carrying a package for Sherlock containing blood pressure medication which he made him take straight away. He explained the doses to Sherlock and the fact that both he and Molly would be texting to remind him to take it so he wasn't getting away with it that easily!

The evening was lovely. Relaxed, impromptu and informal. They soon stopped asking Sherlock how he was when the response they got was always a polite yet slightly curt 'fine thank you.' They ordered in a take away from the local Chinese, and sat and chatted.

It was John who brought the subject of Sherlock back up again. "Sherlock, we've all been talking. Dr Channing recommended that you get away for a few days. Well, Molly's parents have a holiday cottage in the Cotswolds, and so we've made plans to head there for the weekend."

Sherlock looked at them all. He actually realised how blessed he was. Here were 3 people who totally cared about him.

John continued "We'll pick you up Friday morning and head off. Plan is to return back on Monday evening, giving a good clear 4 day break. There's plenty of room in the car for the four of us and there's enough space in the cottage too. I know you have an appointment with Dr Channing on Friday, so we've moved it to Thursday morning instead."

Sherlock simply nodded. He wasn't the kind of person to know how to respond in a situation like this and John knew it too. A simple nod from Sherlock was all he needed to know how much Sherlock appreciated the thought they had all given it. He looked around the room at each of them, making eye contact with them. His way of silently thanking them all.

Molly was the first to stand up. "Doctors orders that you take it easy, Sherlock. That means getting to bed at a sensible time, and getting plenty of rest. C'mon lets get you home and settled for the night. John, Mary, thank you so much for a lovely evening."

She held her hand out to Sherlock stood up and took it, squeezing it slightly. They put on their coats and thanked John and Mary before hailing a cab in the street as they walked.

"Baker Street" Sherlock said to the cab driver. He turned to Molly "Would you like to come in for a drink."

"I'd like that very much Sherlock. Thank you."


	16. Chapter 16

The cab journey seemed to go by in a whizz as Sherlock and Molly sat hand in hand in the back. They arrived back at 221b, and Sherlock paid the cab driver before unlocking the front door, and letting them both into the house.

Mrs Hudson popped her head out upon hearing the door, and gave them both a big smile and a wave from her front door, before heading back inside. She couldn't help grinning to herself that they were together. She'd not had proper opportunity to see Sherlock since he'd taken Molly to Brighton, and the fact that they were together late into the evening the day after was a clear indication to Mrs Hudson that the previous day had gone well.

Sherlock grinned as he opened the door to his flat. Mrs Hudson was on top form. He suspected John may have text to forewarn her. The fire was on and the room was warm. The curtains were closed and two or three of the side lights were on, making for a really warm, cosy atmosphere.

On the table there were some home make cookies, and some freshly washed cups and saucers. He could also see steam rising from the kettle meaning that it had been freshly boiled for them.

"Not your housekeeper, eh Sherlock?" asked Molly as she undid her coat. She slipped it off along with her scarf and gloves. It was so warm in the flat she also took her jumper off too.

Sherlock undid his coat and scarf and took them off . He picked up Molly's coat along with his and hung them up on the back of the door before going to the bathroom, while Molly put the kettle on and made them a drink.

Sherlock was glad to sit down in his own home. Much as he loved John and Mary, he just wanted to be in his own space. His head was feeling a little easier than it had earlier, but the constant dull ache was still there and showed little sign of abating. He was confident a quiet, relaxed evening at home with Molly was just the thing he needed.

They settled down on the sofa next to each other in silence. Molly simply leaned over and snuggled into Sherlock's shoulder. He lifted his arm up and wrapped it around her.

They sat in contented silence for quite some time before Molly piped up "I wonder how Sgt Donovan got on with that body? I loved the way you just stopped her in her tracks with her deduction. She's so awful to you but I love the way you just prove her wrong, and yourself right time after time. That's the most satisfying outcome of all, isn't it?"

Sherlock smiled as he drank his coffee "It does give me great satisfaction, yes. Unfortunately I will always be a 'freak' to Sgt Donovan, no matter how many crimes I solve. It doesn't bother me though. Her opinion is not important to me."

His arm wrapped tighter around Molly pulling her in so that she was sitting right next to him. They didn't need to speak; they just watched the flickering flames on the fire, sipping their coffees.

"Thank you for lunch today" Molly eventually said

"Thank you for my toe nails" said Sherlock back.

Molly giggled and turned to directly face Sherlock, looking straight into his eyes "You are welcome. I knew you'd like them."

Sherlock responded by looking straight at Molly, his eyes smiling and open. Neither of them pulled way from the other as she stretched up slightly to put her lips to his. They kissed.

Sherlock felt a rush of warmth run through him. The same rush of warmth he had felt on the beach in Brighton. It was a new feeling to him. He had always chosen to suppress his emotions, to shut them out. But since his injury in Riyadh he had found that harder and harder to do particularly around the people he was closest to - Molly, John, Mary, Mrs Hudson and to some extent Lestrade. The only person he was not prepared to let his guard down for was Mycroft. He didn't want another lecture.

Molly felt a rush of warmth run through her. The same rush of warmth she had felt on the beach in Brighton. It was not an unfamiliar feeling to Molly to kiss someone, but the deep seated warmth she felt when she kissed Sherlock was unlike any she had felt before. It was within her very soul, like the moment they touched it was like they were linked together. Priori Incantatem.

Their kiss was not rushed. It was simple and warm. They took their time enjoying the feel of each other. After a short while they shifted a little, Molly easing herself to sit into Sherlock's lap so that they could easily wrap their arms around each other. At first it was just their lips that explored each other, but as time passed and their kiss intensified their tongues moved more, exploring each other's mouths.

Molly stood up, and gently held her hand out to Sherlock. He placed his hand in hers, and followed her as she gently led him down the corridor and into his bedroom. Sherlock inwardly smiled when he saw his bedroom. It was not in the same state he had left it in that morning. When he had left it, the bed was unmade, some of his clothes lay on the floor and others on his chair. This was not the same room. There were clean sheets on the bed, and all his clothes had either been put away or taken to be washed. He made a mental note to give Mrs Hudson an extra big hug next time he saw her.

Molly lay gently down on the bed and indicated to Sherlock to join her. He took his glasses off and put them on the bedside table, before joining Molly lying on the bed. They again wrapped their arms around each other, starting all over again, kissing each other, exploring each other slowly, paying care and attention to each other as if it were a new toy being unwrapped for the first time. As their kissing heightened, their legs and bodies started to entwine with each other. Sherlock pulled Molly closer, feeling her slender body next to his. Molly's hand moved down and she planted it firmly on his bottom, pulling him in tightly, so she could feel his manhood against her leg. She could tell that he was aroused by what they were doing, and she allowed herself to pull tighter into him, their bodies rutting slightly against each other.

Their passion intensified and Sherlock felt Molly move his hand up to her breast. He cupped it gently "Molly, please help me. I don't know..."

She put her finger to his lip, understanding totally what he was telling her. She eased his hand underneath her shirt and onto her breast. He could feel it through her bra. So soft, so pert. He had touched breasts before for research and experimentation, but never while kissing a woman. Never with someone like Molly. Never for his own pleasure or to give pleasure to another. His only previous sexual encounters had been rushed affairs, mainly while he was at University, and none had given him satisfaction. It was partly for that reason he had chosen abstinence, focusing on his work rather than on the wants and needs of his own body. He watched her reach behind herself and undo her bra, before taking his hand in hers. Molly guided his hand up underneath the material and onto her bare skin. His hand slid over her naked breast, and up to her pert nipple. Sherlock gently stared to stroke. She inhaled deeply as he did so, and he watched in interest as she reacted to his touch, stroke and massage. Molly was not just beautiful, she was utterly fascinating.

They carried on in each others arms for quite some time, Sherlock touching Molly and taking guidance from her as to what she liked. They kissed and held each other.

Sherlock was enjoying himself but was conscious that a wave of nausea and exhaustion was hitting him. Molly picked up on the signs and immediately stopped and asked him if he was OK.

"Are you OK? How's your head?"

"I'm fine Molly" Sherlock said, telling a little lie. His head did feel easier than it had earlier but the pain was still there." I'm just feeling really tired all of a sudden. I'm so sorry."

"Shh, it's fine, don't worry. It's probably the medication John gave you earlier." Molly had suspected John had slipped some kind of slow acting sleeping agent into the concoction at the time Sherlock took all the tablets at his house. This reaction pretty much proved her theory correct. "Look, it's probably best if you rest right now anyway, doctors orders and all that. I'll leave you to it." She kissed his foreheads softly, then moved over and started to sit up. She felt a hand grab her arm.

"Stay with me Molly. Stay the night. I don't want you to go." He looked at her with pleading yet exhausted eyes.

"OK, I'll stay. Can I borrow some pyjamas? I have to be at work at 8am, so I'll be up and out bright and early if that's OK?"

"That's fine with me. Pyjamas are in the top drawer. I'm not sure I even have the energy to put some on myself."

"C'mon Sherlock. Take yourself off to the bathroom. I'll sort the bed out."

Sherlock did as Molly said, slowly easing himself and his aching head off the pillow. When he returned, he found the bed pulled back and some pyjamas sitting on the side waiting for him. He gently worked himself out of his day wear, dropping it onto the floor where he stood, and slipping into his pyjama bottoms. He didn't have the energy to put the top on and he usually slept naked anyway. He climbed into bed and closed his eyes. The wave of exhaustion hit him in an instant. He was asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow.

Molly had changed into Sherlock's pyjamas while he was in the bathroom. They were utterly massive on her and she smiled at her reflection in the mirror in his bedroom. The trousers were about a foot too long for her so she had rolled them up so she didn't fall over them as she walked. She had headed off to the kitchen to wash up their cups. When she returned, she found a pile of clothes in the bedroom, and an utterly spark out half naked Sherlock already sleeping in the bed.

She watched him sleeping for a while. He looked utterly worn out but so peaceful. She picked up his clothes, opened his wardrobe and found two hangers - one for his suit and one for his shirt. She looked at the label in his shirt. Extra Small. She always knew he was slim and needed to put on some weight, but he really was slim. She vowed to make it her job to help him gain the weight he so desperately needed to put on.

She went back round to his side of the bed, and swept the errant curls off his forehead. She gently laid a kiss on his cheek before turning off the bedside light. She walked around the bed and climbed in on the other side snuggling her back into his, ready to sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

was around 9am the next morning when Sherlock began to stir. He rolled over and became aware that the bed next to him was empty. He sat up and reached over to his bedside cabinet. He put his glasses on then looked at his watch. "Damn it" he cursed. He'd meant to wake up with Molly and to see her before she left for work, but he'd fallen asleep so quickly last night he'd not had time to set an alarm.

He took a quick sip from the glass of water which was sitting next to the bed, before stretching and rubbing his head subconsciously. It was still throbbing so he stood up , popped on his best dressing gown, and headed into the kitchen in search of pain killers, still carrying his glass of water. He noticed a note on the kitchen table.

_Hello sleepy head. Hope you slept well and I didn't disturb you. Had to be in work for 8am. Thanks for a lovely evening. Don't forget to take your tablets! See you soon, Molly xx_

Sitting next to the note were the blood pressure tablets John had prescribed for him the day before. He popped open the packet and took the prescribed dose, along with a couple of pain killers he'd got out of the cupboard.

He'd got no plans for the day and was under strict instructions from John and Molly to take it easy. To be honest he didn't feel great anyway, so he simply took himself over to his chair and sat himself down.

Mrs Hudson must have heard him moving about because within a matter of minutes he heard her footsteps on the stairs. He'd not actually seen her properly for a few days so was quite glad to see her. She had brought tea.

"Thought you might like your morning tea a little earlier today" she said putting the tray down. She poured the tea, handed a cup to Sherlock and sat in John's old chair. "So, was that Molly I heard leaving early this morning?"

"Yes"

"How's it going?"

"It's most affirming"

"Oh Sherlock, honestly, you are funny. Is that all you're going to say 'it's most affirming?' It must be going better than that if she stayed over last night."

"It is progressing most satisfactorily Mrs Hudson. Molly simply stayed over last night as I asked her to. However, I suspect I wasn't the greatest company as I fell asleep very quickly. I believe John had something to do with that, slipping some kind of sleeping agent into me last night."

Mrs Hudson laughed "Makes a change for John to be able to get his own back on you, Sherlock, for all the times you drugged him. And how did Sunday go?"

"Sunday was very nice. We had a good time. She seemed to enjoy herself which was the main objective."

"And did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes, I did."

It was obvious to Mrs Hudson from the nature of the responses she was starting to get that Sherlock wasn't going to give much more detail. She had to satisfy herself with the fact that Molly had stayed over so things were obviously progressing in the right direction. She made a mental note to text Molly later to find out how things were and how it had gone.

They carried on their conversation talking about various things when the front doorbell rang. Mrs Hudson stood up from her chair, said she'd answer it, picked up the tray with the cups and tea pot on, said goodbye to Sherlock and headed out of the door to go and answer it. It wasn't long before Sherlock heard voices downstairs, starting to head up the stairs.

"Can I come in?" a familiar voice asked

"Ah, Lestrade. What can I do for you?" Sherlock asked.

Lestrade stopped in his tracks and looked carefully at Sherlock's face "So you're keeping the glasses then? I thought they were a joke when I saw you before. Getting older like the rest of us then? I thought you'd never age. You know, body would never fail. You have to watch deteriorating eyesight, Sherlock. You'll be going grey next."

"Thank you Detective Inspector. Your observational skills excel yourself. I would have thought it quite obvious that they are here to stay, and that their use is a bonus so I can focus more on my work. Now do explain why you need me."

"We have a body at St Barts I'd like you to come and take a look at."

"Why can't Molly look at it?"

"Because brilliant at pathology as Molly is, she can't glean information from a body like you can. We can't quite stack it up. It looks like murder on some parts, but there are also signs of accidental suicide. I know you'll take a look at it and know exactly what is going on. Will you come?"

"I'll have to ask John first"

"What do you mean, you'll have to ask John first."

"I'm under doctors orders."

"Care to elaborate?"

"No"

"So, will you come?"

"Bear with me"

Sherlock stood up and headed into the bedroom, where he picked up his mobile. He text John

_Lestrade is here. Wants me to go to St Barts to examine a body. Am I allowed, Dr Watson? SH_

_Yes, but for no more than 2 hours and PLEASE take it easy. JW_

_Don't worry I'll have Molly there to keep an eye on me. SH_

He headed back into the living room. "I have doctors permission to head over for a couple of hours only. I'll just grab a bath and get dressed and be over."

Lestrade nodded. "OK, see you in the morgue at St Barts in a bit" and he headed out, bemused as to why Sherlock would need John's permission to do anything.

It was an hour or so later that Sherlock was ready and putting his scarf and coat on. He looked at his watch. It was 11am. He'd be at in the lab by 11.30am which meant he needed to leave by 1.30pm. He headed down stairs, out the door and hailed a cab.

He arrived at the morgue pretty much dead on 11:30pm. Molly, Lestrade and Sgt Donovan were standing together leaning over some photographs and documents when he arrived. Molly immediately stopped talking to them and headed over to Sherlock.

She welcomed him by putting her arm around his neck and giving him a kiss on the cheek, and he responded with one in return. Lestrade and Donovan looked at each other with an inquiring glance. Molly kept her voice low so they could not hear her "Did you sleep well?" Sherlock nodded "And have you taken your medication this morning?" Again Sherlock nodded. "Right, it's 11.30am. I have strict instructions from John that you are to be out of here no later than 2 hours after you arrived."

"Yes Molly, I know. I'd quite like to be out of here before then if I can"

"Is your head still hurting?"

"A little. It's fine though. Right, lets see this body then."

Molly led Sherlock into the lab. He went to take his coat off. Molly helped him to pull off his coat and then gently removed his scarf. They were oblivious to the fact that Lestrade and Donovan were watching them.

Donovan lent over to Lestrade "Is it me or is something going on there?"

"Something is definitely going on no matter what. Sherlock had to ask John's permission to come over here today. Something about doctors orders. And now Molly's helping him off with his coat."

"They just seem very, well, close. I've never seen Sherlock get close to anyone before but it's like something has changed between him and Molly."

"I'll text John to find out." Lestrade took his mobile out of his pocket

_Is something going on between Molly and Sherlock? GL_

John's response took a few minutes

_He took her to Brighton on his motorbike on Sunday. But any more than that I am not aware of. JW_

Lestrade showed the response to Donovan

"Freak can drive? Who knew"

"Yes, does seem a little unlike him. But then he does consistently amaze me so I guess it's nothing of a surprise really."

"Still can't get over the fact he's wearing glasses either. Seems so unlike him to admit some form of failure."

"I only said that to him this morning. He got a little narky at me though."

Their attention soon turned back to Sherlock and Molly who were working over the body. Molly was making copious notes as Sherlock was speaking. At one point Lestrade could have sworn that Molly's hand sat on top of Sherlock's as they worked their way down the body. There was more giggling and laughing coming from them both than perhaps was appropriate during an inspection of a deceased body, and the snatched glances between them did not go unmissed by either of the two onlookers. He made a mental note to quiz Molly further later as he knew he would get nothing out of Sherlock.

Sherlock straightened up, and it was clear that he had gleaned all he could out of the body in front of him. He lent over Molly's shoulder and read the notes she had made, pointing out changes or amendments as he read. He then turned to Lestrade

"Got anything?" Lestrade inquired.

"Well, it was murder, not accidental suicide. Our victim is a 43 year old male, born somewhere near Hull but who relocated to Colchester when he was a child. The victim was a city banker, who had recently lost eleven million pounds sterling in several illegal dealings with a Russian oil magnate. There was going to be a meeting to discuss recent events. Suicide - because this was meant to look like suicide - was not on the mind of our victim, but someone was there to 'help'. The meeting therefore would have been set up to 'discuss' these dealings and the victim believed it was to help recover lost monies. The victim is recently split from a long term partner - that much is obvious from the indentation left on the finger from a long period of wearing a wedding ring. The union which produced three children, one of which is no longer alive due to a disability from birth. The others are aged 6 and 9 and are both girls. Cause of death was an overdose of a cocktail of drugs which no doubt will become clear when Molly has undertaken her excellent tests. The motive for murder is entirely financially motivated, probably because a price had been put on his head by someone. The victim travelled yesterday from Guildford where he lives into just outside Canary Wharf for a meeting at 5pm, and the murder took place at just after 6pm. The body was then taken by car and abandoned in the boot just outside Wembley. Am I correct?"

"Yes you are. How on earth? I won't even begin to ask you how you got that from this body" laughed Lestrade.

Thanks so much for reading. If you are enjoying, please either follow, favourite or leave a review. I'd love to hear from you and to know what you think! Thank you, Sarah x Also, please check out my other stories. I hope you enjoy.


	18. Chapter 18

Sherlock had just finished off his speech about the body when a familiar face peered around the door. It was John

"Checking up on me Dr Watson? said Sherlock with a slight smile on his face

"Purely routine Sherlock. Can you come with me for a moment?" Sherlock nodded. He knew what John wanted to do.

Molly stood and watched Sherlock leave the room. When she turned back, she was met with two questioning looks from Lestrade and Donovan.

"Something you want to tell us?" asked Donovan with a slight sneer.

"Nothing that's any of your business" responded Molly equally as sneering in return

"But there is something going on between you both, isn't there?" asked Lestrade, a little more gently.

"We had a lovely day out together on Sunday, that's all. I'd helped him with something and he wanted to say thank you to me, so I asked him if he'd take me out on his motorbike. He'd not ridden it since he got back from his time away because of the thing I helped him with. So we went for a trip to the seaside and it was really nice and we enjoyed it and had fun. Nothing more to report. Sorry to disappoint you both." Molly moved away from them, back to the table the body was lying on.

Lestrade and Donovan flicked a knowing glance at each other and moved their focus back to the body that Sherlock had managed to glean so much from .

"How do you think he does it?" Lestrade said out loud. Molly and Donovan both laughed

"I have absolutely no idea but you can guarantee he's right as always" said Molly starting to do up the body bag "I guess you will both need to start to check things out?"

"Molly, why did Sherlock need John's permission to come here today, and why has John just taken Sherlock off somewhere?" Lestrade asked

"Well, he won't like me telling you but Sherlock's not too well at the moment, that's all. He's supposed to be on strictly enforced rest at home but you know what Sherlock is like. I'll be sending him straight home as soon as John has finished with him. He'll be fine. He just needs to listen to John and take it easy."

Molly could see Donovan about to ask further questions to pry for more detail when John and Sherlock returned into the room. Sherlock headed over to Lestrade and Donovan to talk about the body. Molly turned to John in private and asked "All OK?"

John shook his head. "His BP is still extremely elevated. I don't like it Molly, I don't like it at all.. I have asked him to take it as easy as possible, and to go home and to sleep. He needs total rest. The sooner Friday comes and we can get him away and relaxed the better. He desperately needs a break and a change of scenery. I'm going to call Dr Channing in a bit to see what other treatment we need to undertake. I don't need to tell you he's in real danger of some kind of bleed on the brain. Molly, I'm really worried about him."

Molly squeezed John's hand "I'll keep an eye on him again later."

"Thanks Molly. I only popped over during my lunch hour. I must get back now." John quickly said his goodbyes to Lestrade, Donovan and Sherlock and as quickly as he arrived, he had gone again.

Molly turned back to the table to find the three of them in detailed conversation over the body. Sherlock was talking them through step by step how he had drawn his conclusions into the background of the victim. She was amused to watch both their faces as they listened to Sherlock's explanation - all very simple and logical once someone talked you through it, but in total awe of how on earth he had worked it all out in the first place. After a few minutes she became conscious of Sherlock wrapping things up and preparing to leave.

" I must be off. Goodbye Lestrade. Donovan" Sherlock walked over to his scarf and coat and was soon joined by Molly. She gently wrapped his scarf around his neck, and helped him on with his coat. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as he headed out of the door. She followed him and popped her head out of the door.

"I'm out tonight with the girls, but I'll pop over after if you like? Maybe around 11pm?"

Sherlock nodded and was gone. It was so unlike him but he wanted to get home. To get to peace and quiet. To rest his head which was tired. So very tired. He hailed a cab and climbed in. He sat down, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, resting his head against the window the whole way home. He never felt like this. His brain was always wanting to work but at the moment it just wanted to stop. To sleep. To rest. The journey to 221b took too long. It was only a matter of minutes, but in his mind it was too long. The opening of the front door took too long. The climb up the stairs took too long. Taking off his coat took too long. The walk to his bedroom took too long. Until finally he could lay his head down on the pillow and sleep. And sleep. And sleep.

Back at the lab, Molly had finished off with Lestrade and Donovan and she had returned to her work. Donovan and Lestrade had waited until they were out of ear shot of Molly before both talking at great speed and over the top of each other at the same time.

"What on earth is going on between those two?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"He took her out for the day... on his motorbike."

"I didn't think he was like that."

"She's being very coy about things."

"Do you think they've... you know?"

"Er, no, I hope not" came Donovan's reply to the final statement made by Lestrade. "Err, just the thought of it. Oh my god, no, surely not." She pulled a face at Lestrade which made him laugh.

"Just because you don't like him. Molly's always liked him. And lets face it, you and Anderson were quick to jump to conclusions about Sherlock, all of which were proved to be untrue. Lets just let them be. It's actually none of our business what is going on. But we'll make it our business to keep an eye and to find out. In the mean time I think he might have come up trumps with information on this body. I can never get my head around how he sees exactly the same things we do, but manages to piece together so much more information than we ever could.". And with that, Lestrade and Donovan climbed into their car to head back to the yard with the information Sherlock had given them.

Back at 221b, Sherlock had slept for around 4 hours. A really deep, heavy sleep, and he woke up with his head pounding and feeling very hungry. He put his glasses on and looked at his watch. It was 6pm and it was dark outside. He stood up and wandered into the kitchen. He'd left his phone on the kitchen table and when he looked there were texts from John and Molly both checking up on how he was. He quickly text them both back then headed to the cupboard to grab a couple of pain killers from his heavily depleted stock.

He grabbed his coat and scarf and headed down the stairs, planning a visit to the Chinese takeaway on the corner. He popped his head into Mrs Hudson to ask if she wanted anything.

"Oh Sherlock, that is sweet of you." she said when he'd asked her. "That would be lovely. Are you OK though, you're looking a little peaky."

"I'm fine Mrs Hudson. Get some plates out, make a cuppa and I'll be back in a bit with our food." and with that he headed out the front door.

Mrs Hudson was straight on to texting John

_He's up and about. I think he slept for about 4 hours between 2pm and supply of pain killers is getting lower too. He's gone to the Chinese to get us some food but he's looking very pale though. _

_Thank you. Please keep me posted. Molly's popping in to see him later. Remind him to take his tablets. JW_

Sherlock was back in no time at all and their food was on the table. They talked about all sorts of things, cases, Mrs Hudson's sister. Mrs Hudson was watching Sherlock intently though. She knew him so well and she knew his patterns. Sleeping during the day when he'd been on a case was not one of the ways he usually behaved.

Once they'd eaten together and finished chatting it was almost 8pm. Mrs Hudson excused herself but she was off out to meet some friends to play bingo so Sherlock headed up to the flat. He settled himself in on the sofa and paid a long visit to his mind palace. He had much to file away. His trip to Brighton with Molly. How she had reacted to their day together. The kiss on the beach. Oh, that kiss on the beach. Two visits to John and Mary and a lovely evening last night with Molly. It was only once he had filed everything to do with her away and allowed himself to reflect on the moments they had shared together that he allowed himself to file away the facts of the two bodies he had encountered over the past two days. It didn't take that long to file the cases, and he allowed his mind to return to Molly. Sherlock had never become that close to anyone before. The way it felt when she kissed him. The way her breast felt when she touched it. He'd always felt that emotion was some form of failure, but with Molly it was somehow different. His body felt different when he was with her, holding her, kissing her.

He became conscious of another person in the flat. He opened his eyes and looked to see Molly was there taking her coat off. He glanced at his watch. It was 10.45pm. He lay on the sofa and watched her as she hung up her coat and scarf, and sat down in John's old chair to take her shoes off. Molly was the only person, apart from Mrs Hudson and John, he let sit in that chair. She looked over to him and smiled.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him "You're looking rather pale. Have you taken your tablets"

"Yes Molly, I've taken them. I'm fine OK? Had a good sleep this afternoon." he sat up and patted the sofa next to him. Molly headed over and sat next to him. He put his arm around her "How was your evening with the girls?"

"It was lovely. We went out for something to eat. They've all gone on to a club but I didn't fancy it. I wanted to pop by and see how you are."

"Did you get anywhere with that body?"

"You were absolutely right. It wasn't suicide. There was evidence of several different drugs in his system. The full toxicology reports will take a few days yet, but yes, it appears it was murder. I called Lestrade just before I left for the evening and they were already well down the line with the information you'd given them. I am so sick of Sally Donovan doubting you. She's always making snide comments or rolling her eyes at you. I don't know why she can't just be grateful."

Sherlock pulled Molly in tighter and kissed the top of her head. "As I said before Molly, there is no greater satisfaction than being proved right." With that he leant down and kissed her lips. Molly responded by kissing him right back.

"South African Pinot Grigio" Sherlock said after a beat

"What is?" asked Molly puzzled.

"You've been drinking South African Pinot Grigio tonight."

"Oh for goodness sake Sherlock, stop it! How on earth can you know that from one kiss."

Sherlock leant down "I'll tell you what, I'll just make sure I'm right" he said and he went in for another kiss, this time much longer and deeper. Their lips moving together, their arms wrapped around each other. They stayed wrapped around each other for quite some time, holding each other. Their kiss was not passionate, it was gentle. Molly was taking her lead from Sherlock who was obviously not feeling at his best - she had received the same text from Mrs Hudson that John had and so she was aware that he had slept during the day and that was unlike him.

After some time, Sherlock pulled away, looking tired. He stood up and held his hand out to her. Molly stood up and moved closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear "Molly, I need to, erm, I want, erm"

"It's fine Sherlock, just say it."

"I really want to take this, well us, further. I just don't have the energy to right now. I need to sleep. I just don't want you to think I don't want to."

Molly looked deeply into his eyes. "I want to take us further too, Sherlock. But I also understand how you are feeling. Lets just take it as it comes, no pressure at all. I'm really enjoying your company. I love the time we spend together. I love the fun we have. I particularly love the way you kiss me. I'd happily keep doing just that for now if that's what works for you."

Sherlock's eyes never moved from Molly's through that whole speech she gave. They were tired but smiling eyes, as if he were trying to communicate everything through them because he didn't have the words to respond.

As his gaze broke from hers he simply said "sleep time". He unwrapped his arms from around her, took her hand and led her into his bedroom. As with the night before, Sherlock changed into his pyjamas and was sound asleep in the bed before Molly had finished in the bathroom.

This time she took slightly less care to be quiet around him. She sorted out her things and then climbed into bed next to him. She sat up looking at him sleep. He was so peaceful, silent as he was that first time they fell asleep together on the sofa. His curls were spread out across his pillow and she buried her head into them and gave him a kiss "Sleep well Sherlock, sweet dreams" and she reached over and turned the bedroom light out before snuggling in behind him, holding him tightly to her.


	19. Chapter 19

Molly was the first to wake the next morning. She quickly checked her phone. It was Wednesday and her shift didn't start until 9am, so she had some time. It was currently 6.30am. She put her phone down and rolled over to watch Sherlock. His breathing was steady and silent. He looked as if he'd not moved from the position he'd fallen asleep in last night, his curls still spread across the pillow. She quietly eased herself up and into the kitchen where she put the kettle on and made two cups of tea.

She carried them back into the bedroom to find Sherlock stirring and waking slowly. He winced as he opened his eyes and subconsciously rubbed his head. She placed the teas on the bedside cabinet and then sat down on her side of the bed next to him

"Are you OK?" She asked him

"Fine. Just a touch of a head ache" he lied. In honesty his head was pounding "I'll be fine."

He rolled onto his back and put his arm out beckoning her to snuggle in next to him. She lay down and put her head onto his chest and wrapped her arm around him. They lay there in silence for a while holding each other, Molly listening to the reassuring beat of Sherlock's heart which seemed to fill the silence. Sherlock had his eyes closed and seemed to be drifting back off to sleep so Molly reached up and kissed his lips. He gave out a slight jump and his eyes opened with a start, meeting Molly's with a smile.

Molly rolled herself over so that she was level with Sherlock, lying on her side. They kissed again, this time wrapping their arms fully around each other and holding each other close. The kiss was intense and passionate, their tongues meeting each other as their lips worked at giving each other pleasure. Molly mused at how, although inexperienced, Sherlock was sure a fast learner and had taken on board all of the signals she had given him. He knew exactly where to kiss her and how to glean the biggest reaction from her.

She became aware of Sherlock's hand slipping under her top and beginning to ease it off her and over her head. She helped him to take it off, and watched his eyes as he took her in, hungry to explore her naked torso. His hand moved to her breast and cupped it gently, before kissing it, using his tongue to explore her nipple. He had obviously noted every reaction from her the previous time he did this as this was not the doings of someone inexperienced. It was the actions of someone who knew exactly how to make Molly react with pleasure. When he had finished, he pulled her in close so their naked torsos could touch each other, their warm flesh rubbing together.

Molly moved her body close to Sherlock's and could feel beneath his pyjama bottoms that he was semi hard. She rolled her entire body on top of his and they kissed again, with the passion of two people beginning to explore each others bodies fully for the first time. Sherlock let out a moan as Molly lowered herself fully down onto him and as she pressed her groin into his.

"Oh god Molly" he gently sighed as she gently rocked above him and their bodies moved together. He had never given in to carnal desires like this before, always believing that sentiment was a failure and that sexual encounters would get in the way of his work, but now he was giving in it felt so good. So fulfilling. She felt so warm, so open, so giving, and he wanted to take all that she was willing to give, and to give back to her in return.

They were losing themselves in the moment when suddenly Molly's phone rang. She let out a massive groan of frustration and apologised to Sherlock before grabbing it and answering. Sherlock could tell by the tone of her voice it was work and when she had finished her call she turned back to him.

"I am so sorry. I have to go into work early. They need me. There's been a multiple murder - looks like some form of murder/ murder/ murder/ suicide situation - and they want the bodies looking at immediately. I'm so sorry."

"It's totally fine Molly. I completely understand. I've been in situations myself where I've had to run off for work." He smiled at her and held her close "We'll just have to pick back up again later"

"Oh god yes" responded Molly, her eyes shining. "And some more too if you're really good."

"I'm always good."

Molly rose off the bed and found her clothes on the floor. She picked up her cup of tea from the bedside cabinet which was almost cold and took herself for a quick shower in the bathroom. Sherlock sat up in the bed and picked up his cup of tea too. His head was still pounding but a little easier than it was earlier. He drank his tea in silence, listening to the run of water and Molly showering.

She was up, showered, dressed and out within 15 minutes of the phone call coming through. Sherlock mused how it was the female who was supposed to be the one who took longest in the shower, but it was definitely him who took longest. He gently eased himself out of bed, not bothering to put a top on, and slipped on his best dressing gown. He wandered into the living room, and picked up the book he had been reading. Normally he'd have run off with Molly to the morgue to find out what was going on with the bodies but even he knew that John's insistence of taking it easy was correct.

He lost himself in his book for a couple of hours until he became conscious of footsteps on the stairs and a voice cheerily shouting 'hello' to Mrs Hudson

"Ah, John, how are you and Mary? Here to talk wedding plans or do you have something more exciting to share with me?"

"Thought I'd drop by and see how you are. How's your head today."

"Fine"

"Mrs Hudson text me last night to say you were looking a bit off colour"

"I'm fine John. I was just a little tired yesterday, that's all. I had a good sleep yesterday afternoon and woke up feeling much better. I presume you want my arm too?"

"Of course." Sherlock eased his left arm out of his dressing gown and John wrapped the cuff around it. The familiar build up of pressure took place as John listened for his pulse with the stethoscope. John took his stethoscope off "It's down a little from yesterday which is good. You've obviously had a relaxing evening and morning." Sherlock smiled and John looked at him knowingly. "Molly been here by any chance?"

"Yes"

"Did she stay over?"

"She has done for the past couple of nights. It's been nice. I've enjoyed her company."

"That's great news. Now Sherlock, I do need to just give you a word of warning. I'm not prying but when I say you need rest, I mean you need no strenuous activity, if you get what I mean. Just take it easy, OK."

"John, it's not like that. We've not... "

"Ah, OK. Well then how come she's stayed over. No, take that back, I don't want to know. Not my business. Pretend I never asked."

"If you must know, she stayed because I asked her the first time and then it just happened last night."

"Well, what ever is going on between you guys, you seem to be very content. I've never known you willingly undertake my orders to rest before but you are now. Molly's obviously having a good influence on you. I think she might appreciate lunch again, or dinner you know. Not that I'm telling you what to do or anything but I do have slightly more experience on the female front. But just keep it simple, Sherlock. Show her you care. No trying to be clever or showing off, OK?"

"Thank you John, hint taken. Cup of tea?"

"Sounds lovely, yes please."

The tea was made and Sherlock and John chatted for quite some time. John filled Sherlock in on the latest wedding plans, and they made arrangements to talk over the weekend while they were away about what was happening. Sherlock filled John in on the body in the morgue and the bodies Molly had had to run off to inspect. Even though they had seen each other regularly, they always found much to catch up on, and as normal the conversation between them both flowed freely. It was quite some time later that John looked at his watch and started to stand up

He spoke while he put his coat and scarf on "I must run. I start my shift at noon. Don't forget your appointment with Dr Channing tomorrow will you. Give me a call once you're done and update me. I'll text you tomorrow with the arrangement for the pick up for Friday morning for the weekend away" and with that he was gone out of the door and down the stairs.

Sherlock picked up his phone to text Molly

_Lunch? SH_

_I'd love to but we're going to be tied up with this all day. I could pop round for dinner after work instead if that works? MH x_

_Of course. Food will be on the table for _

Sherlock stood up. He had never cooked dinner like this before. He text Mary

_Need advice. Cooking dinner for Molly. Is beans on toast acceptable as it's all I can cook. SH_

_Surely you of all people know what her favourite food is. MW x_

_Of course I do. I've just never done this before. SH_

_Then cook what she likes. MW x_

_But I only have beans and bread in the flat. SH_

_Then go shopping! But seriously, she'll love it, whatever you do. Have a great night. MW x_

Sherlock sighed and went into his bedroom, grabbed his clothes and headed into the shower. He hated shopping, especially food shopping. He was dressed and ready to go 30 minutes later. He had googled 'how to cook Spaghetti Bolognese' and obtained the shopping list of all he needed. He took a deep breath and started down the stairs.

It was an hour or so later that he headed back up the stairs with shopping in hand. It was just after 2pm and Molly was due with him at 8pm, meaning he had 6 hours to spare. He headed to the bedroom and lay down, having the second afternoon nap in as many days. He arose around 6.30pm and started to lay out the ingredients. For someone with such a logical, brilliant brain, he was lost at sea. He followed the instructions meticulously, including the chopping of onions and all of the other vegetables. He did wonder if wearing his goggles was a little overkill for the onions but it did stop him from crying. It was only once he lifted them up and stupidly rubbed an onion covered finger across his eye that he found the tears pouring down his face and him cursing his lack of attention.

He hadn't realised that Mrs Hudson had wandered up the stairs to see how he was doing. She found him swearing at himself, with tears rolling down his cheeks. She became helpless with laughter at the sight of him flailing around the kitchen.

"Do you need some help Sherlock?" she managed to get out between laughs.

Sherlock looked up, relieved to see her "Mrs Hudson, I do believe I require your help."


	20. Chapter 20

Mrs Hudson was soon in control of the dinner and Sherlock was in control of his tears. She watched him in bemusement - he really didn't have a clue in the kitchen. She blamed his mother.

As 8pm grew nearer, Mrs Hudson politely mentioned to Sherlock that he might want to consider clearing the kitchen table, so that he and Molly could sit at it to eat. He eyed the mess left there with distain, then moved to clear the table in the living room instead. He simply pushed everything to the side and laid out two knives and forks, before returning to the kitchen with Mrs Hudson.

At just after 8pm, Molly rang the doorbell. Mrs Hudson gave Sherlock a kiss on the cheek and said "have a lovely evening" before she was gone down the stairs to let Molly in. Sherlock could hear the two of them talking in the hall, before Molly started to make her way up the stairs.

When she walked through the door Sherlock's breath was nearly taken away. She looked beautiful. She'd swept her hair to the side just as he liked it, and she was wearing his favourite trousers and top. She'd obviously been home to change and shower between work and coming for dinner as she smelt fresh and clean. He walked over to her and took her in his arms before she'd even got chance to fully take her coat off. They kissed for a short while before Molly gently pushed him away.

"Hey Sherlock, give me a moment to get my coat off first, will you." She took her coat and hung it on the back of the door. "Something smells good. Have you been cooking?"

"Yes I have. Well, the honest truth is that I've been chopping onions and crying and Mrs Hudson's been cooking."

"And why on earth have you been crying. What's wrong?"

Sherlock recounted the tale of how he'd worn his goggles then managed to wipe his eye with a finger covered in onion juice. He thought Molly was actually going to have a convulsion she was laughing that much at him.

Molly followed Sherlock into the kitchen as he opened the fridge. Molly decided she'd rather not look at what was inside Sherlock's fridge knowing his track record, so she waited for him to emerge from it. He did so quite quickly, holding a bottle of wine. Molly smiled at him as he proceeded to uncork the bottle and then pour out two glasses. He handed one to Molly. She took it from him and then gently chinked her glass against his. She looked him straight in the eye and said "to us."

"What do you mean, Molly?"

"Just that I am really enjoying your company, Sherlock. I love spending time with you. I really enjoy kissing you and holding you and I've had the most wonderful few days. Sunday was magical, and since then I've loved every minute I've spent with you. Thank you for letting me in, and for the time you've given me."

"And I have enjoyed it too, Molly Hooper. It's been an intriguing few days for me and I have learned so much."

"Oh Sherlock, you don't change do you. Always the opportunity to turn something into an experiment of some kind." She gently leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Shall I put the dinner out?" he asked swiftly. "Mrs Hudson said it was ready so..."

"Let me help." Sherlock and Molly got two plates out and dished the dinner out onto each "Oh Sherlock, Spaghetti Bolognese. My favourite."

"I know".

They sat down opposite each other at the table in the living room and ate their dinner watching each other with furtive glances they grabbed as they were eating or spiralling their spaghetti onto their forks. As they got into the eating, and they were drinking more wine, the 'slurping' of their spaghetti became more and more outrageous. It ended with Molly twisting one piece of Spaghetti around two forks and then taking one fork each. They then ate the spaghetti off each fork, ending up meeting in the middle with a kiss.

"Did you ever see Lady and the Tramp?" Molly asked Sherlock, their foreheads still touching

"Molly, do I look like someone who has seen the Lady and the Tramp?" Sherlock snorted in response. Molly grinned. Sherlock really didn't seem like someone who had seen the film. She shook her head. "Then you'd be wrong" he said with a cheeky grin "Of course I've seen Lady and the Tramp. I remember the scene vividly."

Molly looked deeply into his eyes and pulled herself forwards, her lips meeting his with a jolt and she kissed him with all the passion and force that she could muster. He must have been sharing the same thoughts as he was kissing her just as passionately in return.

Molly reached gently over for Sherlock's hand and took hold of it. "Come with me" she uttered breathlessly, standing up and gently pulling Sherlock with her. She took him into his bedroom where they stood by the bed and wrapped their arms around each other.

"Take me, Sherlock" Molly said, her lips again meeting his

"Molly..."

"I know, Sherlock. You've never done this before. It's fine, I'll guide you and if anyone is going to learn on the job it's you. Just do what comes naturally. You will be great." All the while she was saying this, she was gently unbuttoning his shirt and easing it over his strong, powerful shoulders. She still couldn't get over the fact that he was so ripped, his body lean and thin but with clear muscle definition. He helped her to ease his shirt over his wrists and it fell to the floor.

He was quickly returning the favour to her. Her top was buttoned down the front too, and within seconds he had worked his way down then and was taking her shirt off, leaving her in just her bra. Where he had fumbled the night before to get her bra off, this time his mind palace was in full working order and he only had to slip his hand underneath the strap at the back and he had somehow undone the clasps. Molly let it slip off her shoulders and onto the ground.

Sherlock too Molly's left breast in his right hand and started to massage it, as he kissed her. She pulled him in closer and deepened their kiss again, her arms rubbing across his back and ruffling his hair. She could feel him tense up as she played with his hair. 'One to log for a future date that he likes having his hair played with' she thought. Her arms moved gently down his back and she tucked her hands into the waist band of his trousers. She had felt him, semi hard against her, the other day but she had not yet explored what lay beneath the fabric, the same as he had explored her top half but nothing below. She had a feeling that there was about to be quite a lot of exploring going on!

Her hands eased gently from the back of the waistband around to the front and she slowly undid his button, followed by the zip of his flies. Sherlock took a deep breath as he felt his trousers starting to be lowered down and as Molly rubbed her hand against his bottom and down the back of his thighs. Once the trousers were at his ankles, he stepped out of them and kicked them across the room. Molly could see that he was almost fully hard in his underpants and she pulled him tightly in to her so that she could feel it rub against her stomach.

Having learned from Molly's example, Sherlock reciprocated almost identically to Molly. His hands slipped into the back of her trouser waist band and downwards so that he cupped her buttocks into his hands. She felt herself take a sharp intake of breath. This was Sherlock touching her, the person she had dreamed about being with for so long was slowly and intimately undressing her step by step. And he was hard next to her, wanting her, needing her.

His hand moved around to the front and undid her button and flies. She felt him ease her trousers down lower and him rub his hands down the inside of her thighs as he took them lower. She could feel her knees starting to give way as she kicked them off, standing with him in nothing but her briefs, desperate for him to completely undress her and to make love to her. They returned to kissing each other, this time more intensely, with their hands roaming, their bodies grinding together. Molly could feel Sherlock literally getting harder until he gave out a slight moan, his manhood obviously straining and harder than he'd probably ever been.

She gently lifted his glasses off and put them on the bedside cabinet. She tugged his hand and pulled him towards the bed. As they prepared to lay down, she slipped her hands into his pants and pulled them straight down. She looked at him. He was utterly magnificent. He was HUGE! She felt even more turned on than she had been before. He was standing there next to her, tall and proud. "Oh god Sherlock" she said without thinking

"What Molly?"

"Utterly gorgeous" she found herself saying without taking her eyes off his manhood. She heard him chuckle.

Again, learning from Molly, Sherlock repeated exactly what Molly had done to him, slipping his hands into her pants and pulling them down. As he did that, she fell to her knees, pushed him onto the bed, and in one swift move, took his manhood in her mouth. Sherlock almost screamed out in pleasure, he had never felt anything like it. He was literally gasping for air as Molly sucked his full length, and cupped his balls. Waves of pleasure were repeating through him. He'd heard how good this was, these 'blow jobs' as he had heard them referred to, but he had no idea of the pleasure that would completely overwhelm his senses, leaving him breathless and desperately wanting more.

After a few minutes he managed to utter "Molly, please stop, if you want anything more from me you're going to have to stop or it will all be over very soon."

Molly picked up her head and looked at him "Good?"

"Oh god, utterly amazing. I've never felt anything like that." he said totally breathlessly. He knelt up and gently pushed Molly down onto the pillows, separating her legs "I have to give it a try for you now" he said, literally diving into her groin.

Within seconds it was Molly crying out for mercy as Sherlock found his way around for the very first time. He experimented with different areas. He had of course read all about female genitalia, but this was the very first time he had encountered it himself. He was desperate to learn, and his mind was noting every single reaction that Molly gave him, to catalogue later. He found her fascinating but also incredibly sexy. He could not believe how wet she was, how turned on he had made her. Until that point he had not realised just how incredible the sensations of being with another person could be. His manhood was utterly throbbing as he worked his tongue around Molly, to the point where it was beginning to hurt.

Molly was literally writhing around the bed, breathing extremely heavily and crying out his name. He could tell that he had almost got her to her limit, and she begged him to stop "Sherlock, please stop. Please come up here and make love to me. I need you Sherlock."

Sherlock obliged and within seconds was lying on top of her, kissing her passionately, his manhood next to her entrance. She separated her legs further and looked straight into his eyes.

"Ready?" Sherlock asked her

"Oh god yes, I'm ready" she breathlessly announced. Sherlock took one swift thrust and he was inside her. He took a sharp intake of breath. She was so warm, so tight. He felt like he utterly belonged there, like he was wondering why on earth it had taken him 37 years to do this, and now he had done it once he had the feeling he was going to want to do it over and over and over again.

At first their thrusts were quite gentle as they made love for the first time. Their kisses were passionate yet loving. Sherlock and Molly soon found their rhythm together and very soon their rocking intensified, their kisses more desperate as they wrapped their arms around each other as tightly as possible, Molly opening her legs as wide as she could to allow Sherlock to drive as deeply into her as he possibly could.

It didn't take many of the deep thrusts for Molly to feel the wave of pleasure taking over her body and she started to shudder as her climax began to hit her. At the same time, she could feel Sherlock tensing inside her, his body starting to utterly lose control. They held onto each other tightly as their climaxes hit simultaneously, both letting out a loud cry as their bodies shuddered against each other. Sherlock could feel Molly's muscles tensing around his penis as she could feel him emptying inside her. Their shaking bodies complimenting each other perfectly as they started to slow down and to relax.

They lay holding each other for several minutes before speaking "How was it?" Molly asked him. Sherlock was unable to speak for a few moments. He simply smiled at her and was breathing very heavily.

Eventually he did speak and it was simply to say "Wow, I had no idea."

They lay holding each other for over half an hour, but eventually they rolled apart and Molly sat up "I'm just going to clean up in the bathroom" she said and headed out of the room. Sherlock sat up and took a deep intake of breath. He was trying to assimilate all of the data that had just been given to him, but he was finding it hard. He had no idea he would be hit by such intense waves of pleasure. He had denied his body what it had desired for so long that he was convinced that now he had given in to it, the pleasure was even more intense.

He rose himself to his feet, aware that his headache had returned a little and headed into the bathroom too. Molly was just finishing cleaning herself up and was heading back into the bedroom as he went in. She kissed him intensely on the lips as they passed each other, her hands cupping his face and his holding hers.

He took quite a while in the bathroom, grabbing a shower to freshen up and to allow the water to run over him as he remembered the events of a few minutes ago. Of Molly and how she had taken him in her mouth, of how sweet she had tasted when he had licked her, and of how her body had felt underneath his as they made love.

He dried himself off, and went into the living room and kitchen to turn off the lights. He grabbed a couple of pain killers from the kitchen as he passed through to ease his headache. When he returned to the bedroom, Molly was already asleep, lying in bed, her hair spread over the pillow. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her. She was so peaceful in her sleep. He lent over and kissed her gently on the cheek before climbing into bed beside her. Sleep didn't take long to hit Sherlock that night, and it was a very deep contented, happy sleep at that.


	21. Chapter 21

As usual, Molly was the first to wake the next morning and she lay in bed remembering the most incredible experience she had had the night before. It was perfect. Sherlock was perfect. She had finally had her dream come true and she had actually made love to the man she had loved from afar for years. She suspected that he was harbouring similar feelings and so she was looking forward to trying to talk to him about it all later that day.

She arose and went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She found a note on the kitchen table, along with a loaf of bread. It read "Good morning Sherlock and Molly. I hear you had a good night together last night." Molly looked up at that point and laughed to herself. Of course, Mrs Hudson occupied the flat below. She'd have heard everything. Molly made a mental note to not make eye contact with Mrs Hudson the next time she saw her! The note continued "I thought you might both need some breakfast. I'd noticed last night that there was no food in the flat so I hope a breakfast of toast and a cup of tea will do you. Milk is in the fridge. Love to you both, Mrs Hudson xx"

Molly filled the kettle with water and flicked it on. She grabbed two mugs and put them on the side, and headed into the bathroom to get ready for the day which lay ahead. She had a long shift in the morgue and there was much paperwork to sort out from the previous few days. The water of the shower refreshed her, as she still mused about the fact Mrs Hudson was totally aware of what had happened between the two of them last night. She made a note to ask Sherlock if they could go up to John's old room on the next floor up next time they both felt like being a little amorous! She knew Mrs Hudson was a woman of the world and would be the height of discretion about it, but even so, she kind of wanted to keep this just between her and Sherlock.

She eased herself out of the shower, drying off using Sherlock's towel and then wearing his dressing gown which was hanging on the back of the door. She headed back into the kitchen and made the two cups of tea. She carried them through to the bedroom. Sherlock was stirring but he was not opening his eyes. He had his head buried into the pillow and was rocking slightly. She could tell straight away something wasn't right.

"Sherlock, are you OK?"

He raised his head slightly, gave out a little wince and lay back down again. He opened his eyes a little "Just got a bit of a headache Molly, that's all."

"OK, you stay there and I'll call John."

"That won't be necessary, honestly. It's nothing a couple of pain killers won't sort out. Trust me."

"Somehow I don't though." said Molly kneeling next to him on the floor. "Let me take a look at you, Sherlock. You can't even lift your head off the pillow. I somehow don't think that's alright."

Sherlock didn't want to be bothered with being checked out, so he summoned all the strength he had and pulled his head off the pillow. It was utterly throbbing but he didn't want to admit it. He wanted to sleep and he wanted some space to sleep in. That meant convincing Molly that he was totally fine, and getting her to go to work. Then he could like in his bed in peace and quiet and get rid of the headache in his own time. He eased himself up a little further until he was in the sitting position, with his back on his headboard. His head was pounding and he felt physically sick but he didn't want to tell Molly. He just wanted her to leave for work.

She quietly got herself dressed and went into the kitchen and fetched him some pain killers. "Here you go, take these" she said handing him a glass of water to go with it. It was all that he could do to take the two tablets and one mouthful of water.

She sat with him as she ate some toast she had prepared and drank her tea. She tried to get him to drink his tea and he managed a couple of mouthfuls before begging Molly to be allowed to lie down and go back to sleep. She kissed him gently on the cheek and promised to pop by later to see him. He nodded and closed his eyes, thankful of the break from the light and from the noise. She quietly headed out of the flat and down the stars. She knocked on Mrs Hudson's door

"Good morning Mrs Hudson"

"Good morning, Molly. Had a nice evening did you?"

"Thank you for the milk and bread. Yes, a very nice evening thank you. Sorry to trouble you, I just need to tell you about Sherlock."

"Did you break him?"

Molly laughed at the irony of that statement for he was indeed feeling very rough this morning "Well, I'm not sure about breaking him but he's not feeling at his best today. I've left him back asleep in bed with a cracking headache. Would it be possible for you to pop up and check on him a couple of times?"

"Of course. I'm off out for a couple of hours this morning but I'm back in around noon so I can pop up and check on him then."

"Thank you Mrs Hudson. See you soon" and with that Molly turned and went. As she was exiting the building she text John.

_Just left Sherlock's. He has a pounding headache. Says he'll be fine but is there any chance you could pop in and see him during the day? Mrs Hudson is going to pop up a few times too. MH x_

_Of course, I'll pop by when I've finished my shift early afternoon. Did you remind him he as an appointment with Dr Channing today? JW_

_No, I totally forgot. MH x_

_No problem, I'll text him now and remind him. JW_

John text Sherlock straight away

_Don't forget you have an appointment with Dr Channing at 11.30am this morning. JW_

The text he received back was simple and to the point. It simply said

_OK. SH_

Molly, John and Mrs Hudson all got on with their days, busy with the events that overtook them. John's surgery was full. Several new bodies kept Molly extremely busy in the morgue and morning tea with her friends saw conversation flow easily and freely for Mrs Hudson. All this meant that none of them had a chance to give Sherlock a thought, or to contact him to see how he was.

It was a text which roused John out of his work and back into reality. It arrived at around 11.45am and simply read

_John, Sherlock has not shown for his appointment. Dr Channing_

John's mind went into a panic. Sherlock may be many things, but one thing he wasn't was forgetful. And it was not like him to miss an appointment like this. John's blood ran cold and he immediately knew something was amiss. He literally walked out of his clinic and dived into the first taxi he could hail, telling the driver to get to 221b Baker Street. He text Molly

_Sherlock not shown for appointment. I'm on my way. Get to his flat now. JW_

_Oh my god, John is he OK? MH_

_I don't know. Just calling Mrs Hudson. JW_

_I'll be there as soon as I can. MH_

John knew that Molly would hand over as quickly as she could and she would be there literally as quickly as a cab could get her there. His hand was shaking as he dialled Mrs Hudson's number. She answered quickly.

"Oh hello John. How are you? You're not going to believe what happened last night when..."

"Mrs Hudson I don't have time. Have you been up and checked on Sherlock recently?"

"Oh gosh no, I haven't. Molly asked me to check on him but I've only been in for about 10 minutes and I totally forgot."

"Mrs Hudson I need you to go up and check on him immediately. I have great cause for concern about him. He was supposed to go to his next ophthalmology appointment today at the hospital but he hasn't showed up. I text him myself to remind him this morning so he knows about it but he's not arrived. Molly said he wasn't feeling well this morning and, well, I'm worried. Molly and I are on the way and we'll be with you in 10 minutes or so, but I need you to go and check on him."

"Ok John, no problem. Do you want me to call you back?"

"No I need you to keep on the phone to me as you go up so you can talk me through how he is."

John could hear Mrs Hudson climbing the stairs up to Sherlock's flat and could hear her opening the front door. She walked down the corridor to Sherlock's room.

"It's fine John, he's fast asleep in bed. He's totally spark out. Don't worry about him John, he's just slept through that's all and he's missed his appointment. Nothing to worry about."

"Oh, that's a relief Mrs Hudson, I was really getting worried about him."

John suddenly became conscious that there was silence at the other end and John could hear Mrs Hudson breathing heavily almost as if she were having a panic attach.

"Mrs Hudson, are you OK?"

"John, I don't think he's sleeping. He's breathing really rapidly. He's almost white and he's really cold and clammy. He's sweating profusely. John, oh my god John, I don't think he's sleeping, I think he's unconscious."


	22. Chapter 22

Johns blood suddenly ran cold, and his mind went into a whirl. He KNEW something was amiss. Why hadn't he just listened to his instinct first thing in the morning when Molly had text to say he wasn't well, cancelled clinic and gone straight round to see Sherlock?

"Mrs Hudson, I need you to stay with him. I will call an ambulance and then call you straight back."

John hung up and immediately dialled 999

"Emergency Services, which service do you require?"

"Ambulance"

"Just transferring you now" John's mind was running wild 'C'mon, quickly' he could hear himself say.

The ambulance service came on the line and John gave them the address to go to and described Sherlock's symptoms and some of his past case history. He knew based upon the medical evidence he had just provided that Sherlock would immediately be classed as a top priority and an ambulance would be immediately dispatched to him

Immediately after the call he ran Mrs Hudson back "How is he?"

"He's not well at all John. I don't know what to do. I've tried to wake him but he's just not responding."

"There is nothing you can do at the moment Mrs Hudson. Just stay with him and make sure he keeps breathing. I'll be with you in literally 2 minutes now and I've called the ambulance. Molly's on her way too. Just stay calm and help is on the way."

"Thank you John" and with that she put the phone down. John immediately picked up the phone to Molly.

"Hi Molly. I'm just...

"He's bad isn't he? I knew I shouldn't have left him this morning but he was so insistent that I left him to sleep and went out to work."

"He's not good Molly. I'm on the way too. Where are you?"

"About 2 minutes away."

"Me too. I'll leave the door open if I'm already in when you arrive, or wait for me on the doorstep."

John hung up and found himself literally willing the taxi to drive faster, to get him to Sherlock more quickly.

Those two minutes felt like an absolute age to John and Molly. Their taxi's pulled up at 221b at almost exactly the same time. Mrs Hudson had been down to open the front door ready for the ambulance so they were in and up the stairs before they had both had time to even blink. John was first through the door into Sherlock's bedroom. Sherlock was lying front down on the bed, with his head to the right. Mrs Hudson was sitting on the bed next to him holding his left hand. Molly went straight to Mrs Hudson to comfort her.

John immediately ran round the other side of the bed and climbed on so he could get close to Sherlock, his doctors bag placed on the bed next to him. He grabbed his stethoscope and firstly listened to Sherlock's breathing before checking his pulse.

"Pulse is elevated too but at least its strong." He gently opened Sherlock's eyes one at a time and shone a light into them "Pupils are dilated but there is a slight response there. Molly, help me get a line into him so at least we can save the ambulance staff the job and get him off to hospital as quickly as possible."

Silently Molly and John worked together as a perfect unit, preparing Sherlock to be taken. It could only have been a matter of a couple of minutes before a shout came from down stairs and Mrs Hudson went off to meet the paramedics.

John's handover to them was succinct and to the point. He explained Sherlock's past case history and what be believed was going on. He helped them to get Sherlock onto the stretcher before he and Molly assisted in carrying him down the stairs. Once in the ambulance, John stayed with Sherlock, and Molly and Mrs Hudson followed behind in a taxi.

Inside the ambulance, Sherlock was hooked up to various monitors. The paramedics worked through his vital signs as John could only sit and watch on, understanding the meaning of every single reading and what was going on with Sherlock. The blood pressure machine showed it to be through the roof. John cursed himself again for not having gone straight around to see Sherlock that morning. It wouldn't have stopped this happening but at least he could have been treated quicker. John wondered how long he had been unconscious. 2 or 3 hours at least he guessed. But it was no good on reflecting on what might have been - the situation was as it was and the focus now had to be on getting Sherlock back to full health, whatever journey that took.

John's phone rang with a text alert

_Aware of what is happening with Sherlock. Myself and Prof McCartney on standby waiting for him at the hospital. Dr Channing_

_Thank you. That is a relief. JW_

John held Sherlock's right hand as he lay on the stretcher. "Dr Channing's waiting for you Sherlock. If anyone can sort this, he can. Please keep fighting. We'll get you through this."

The ambulance pulled up, and Sherlock was taken immediately in for treatment. John wanted to stay with him, but the nurse in charge gently pulled him away and into the relatives room just down the corridor. Molly and Mrs Hudson soon joined him, and the nurse asked if they would like a drink. They ordered three cups of tea and they were soon delivered along with a plate of biscuits. They all sat in silence, contemplating what was happening.

"I shouldn't have left him this morning" Molly eventually piped up, looking at John through a tear stained face.

"Molly, you did as he asked. You did what you believed was right. I've been beating myself up about not being there this morning too. Why didn't I cancel my clinic and go straight to him, but I didn't and I can't change that. It is what it is and now we have to focus on getting him well."

Molly nodded, her head bowed still focusing on her cup of tea, the tears still flowing down her cheeks. Mrs Hudson walked over to her and sat next to her on the sofa, putting her arm around her. "It should be me doing this to you, Mrs Hudson" said Molly, "You're the one who had the shock and who found him."

"But you're the one he..."

Mrs Hudson's sentence was cut short by the opening of the door to the room. Dr Channing walked in.

"Hello John and Molly. You must be Mrs Hudson? Sherlock told me alot about you before he... well, anyway, Sherlock."

"How's it looking?" John asked flatly

"It's not looking great, but we are optimistic. As we feared it looks like he's had another bleed to the brain, probably at the same site as his previous bleed. He's down in the CT scanner at the moment so we can assess the full damage before taking him into surgery."

"Surgery?" Molly cried out in a pained voice.

"Yes Molly, we're going to have to relieve the pressure. I can't talk for long because I need to go and scrub up. What I do need to know is why this has happened. John, I know you've given me his recent blood pressure readings which are significantly elevated, but there must have been a trigger. Can anyone tell me, has he undertaken any strenuous activity recently?"

Molly looked at her feet. She felt herself going pale and begin to sweat and shake. "Oh God" she whispered before looking straight at John. John looked at her inquisitively for a moment before it dawned on him.

"Oh God" he answered right back "You and Sherlock..."

Molly's answer was simply "Yes."

"When?"

"Last night, late."

Dr Channing was eyeing them both up and suddenly the penny dropped and he realised what John and Molly were saying to each other. "Molly, don't beat yourself up about this. The bottom line is that it was probably going to happen anyway, so it doesn't really make any difference. He'd have taken ill within a week or so without any strenuous activity anyway. You know as well as we do that all the signs were there. At least that helps me understand. Now I must be gone. I'll update you as soon as he's out of surgery" and with that he was gone.

Molly broke down, the tears flowing even more freely than they did before. John went and joined her and Mrs Hudson on the sofa. He put his arm around her and she rested her head on his chest. He let her cry.

A few minutes later, she was composed enough to lift her head and to talk to John, who was smiling at her.

"What's so funny, John?"

"Well, good for you both I guess. I was just thinking of all this time we've been wondering about Sherlock and when he does go and get himself involved for the first time, it causes him to have a bleed on the brain. If that's not very Sherlock like, don't know what is." Molly and Mrs Hudson had to laugh and agree with him. "So, does this mean you and he are together now?"

Molly took in a deep breath to control her emotions "I honestly don't know John. We didn't talk about it. I was going to talk to him tonight to try and understand what's going on. We've had a lovely few days together, and last night was, well, special. If you know what I mean. I mean, you know..."

"Molly, you don't have to explain yourself" John said gently to her, taking her hand "What I do know is that Sherlock must think an awful lot of you to have taken it that far. I've never known him even go near someone before. So if you ask me, I'd class you as being together." Molly silently nodded and smiled.

The three of them sat in silence on the sofa. John on the left with his arm around Molly and Mrs Hudson on Molly's other side, the two women holding each other's hand for support. The kind nurse popped in every so often to offer them a drink and something to eat. They accepted drinks but none of them felt like eating. Every so often one of them would share an anecdote about something daft Sherlock had done in the past, each responding with a nervous laugh, actually caught up in the reality that Sherlock was currently in surgery potentially fighting for his life.

It was around 4pm that Mary arrived. She had wanted to be there sooner but John told her to finish her shift as there was nothing she could do. Her and Molly shared a long hug upon arrival.

"What happened?" she said once Molly and her had pulled apart

"Looks like he's got a bleed on the brain" replied a very subdued Molly

"But how? I thought he was taking it easy and avoiding strenuous activity to ensure that didn't happen?"

John thought it best he responded instead of Molly "Erm, well, perhaps he got a little forgetful about the 'no strenuous activity bit', Mary."

Mary looked at him confused. John's glance flicked to Molly, who was looking straight at Mary. The look on Mary's face as the penny dropped was utterly priceless.

"Oh my god. You and Sherlock. You and he actually?" Molly simply nodded at Mary who went up to her and put her arms around Molly all over again. She whispered in Molly's ear "Was it amazing and everything you wanted it to be?" Molly pulled back a little, looked Mary straight in the eye and simply nodded, a smile spreading across her face.

She whispered back to Mary "Utterly amazing."

Time passed on and it was around 6pm when Dr Channing came back through the door, looking tired, still dressed in his operating uniform. He went straight to Molly and held her hand. Molly felt her knees buckle underneath her, fearing the worst.

Dr Channing took a deep breath. "He's come through surgery. He's very very poorly though and we have him currently on the intensive care unit. He's had quite a significant bleed but we have it under control and have inserted a drain. It was touch and go at one point. He started to arrest, but we managed to control it. He's a lucky man. He has had to have part of his head shaved, but we've kept it to a minimum for him. Do you want to come and see him?"

"Yes please" said Molly breathlessly, unaware she'd been holding her breath throughout the whole time Dr Channing had been speaking, her whole body shaking.


	23. Chapter 23

Molly was shaking from head to foot as she was led through ICU to the place where Sherlock lay. It was so different from her usually silent world within the hospital. There were machines whirring, bleeping and people frantically moving around. She took in the scene as she looked at Sherlock . He was so very still. Almost as if he could have been in one of his silent sleeps. But this was so much more serious. There were wires and monitors attached all over him, drips in his arm, up his nose, and tubes coming out of all places, including a particularly nasty one coming out of his head.

Molly walked very slowly up to him, almost scared to touch and look at him. His colour was better than it had been earlier, when he was so grey and clammy. His breathing was now governed by a ventilator, so he felt so much more calm than when she saw him in the flat. She took in all the various drips he was attached to - saline drips, a unit of blood, what appeared to be some form of antibiotic. She so wanted to touch him, to feel him, to be close to him but her body felt fixed to the spot. Her medical training told her head that she couldn't do him any damage at all, but her heart had overtaken her head. She was locked in fear and her feet wouldn't let her go any closer to him.

Mary nudged John, whispered something in his ear and pointed at Molly. John walked up behind her and gently took her hand, leading her closer to Sherlock. There was a chair next to the bed and he gently guided her to it. She sat down and John picked up her left hand. He gently placed it on top of Sherlock's right hand. "You can't hurt him, Molly, you know that" he said gently to her. Molly held her hand there for a moment, before tentatively entwining her fingers into Sherlock's, as her body rocked with heavy sobs.

Mary and Mrs Hudson were standing at the foot of the bed holding each other tightly. John was trying to be the cool, calm collected one, fighting back, not allowing his emotions to overtake him. He picked up Sherlock's file and poured over the readings and observations that had been taken from the moment he arrived, during surgery and as while he was in ICU. John could see that indeed it had not all been plain sailing. There were some big dips in heart rate and BP during surgery, but the skill of Dr Channing and Prof McCartney and the surgical team had ensured that he had pulled through. John could picture them all now, responding to every alarm that went off, to every change in Sherlock's condition and readings, to ensure that he pulled through surgery, just as he had done in the operating theatres on the battle field. John let out a silent prayer. He wasn't a religious man, but at this point wasn't sure what to do apart from that.

The four of them stood around Sherlock's bed in silence, each taking in the scene of this brilliant man, so very sick and dependant upon the machines to keep him alive. Sherlock was the one who had once said that breathing was 'boring'. But today it wasn't boring. It was necessary and every breath the machines took for him was part of his slow fight back to fitness.

Mary felt a hand upon her shoulder. She turned around to find Mycroft standing behind her, his face pale and worried. With him were two people she didn't know, but she could only presume were Sherlock and his parents.

"How is he?" Mycroft asked her quietly "I wanted to come sooner but I drove down to pick up our parents. I thought they needed to be here too."

Mary turned around and quietly introduced herself to Mr and Mrs Holmes. "He's out of surgery and critical but stable for now, so that's positive. They believe it was a bleed on the brain but it's under control at present." Mary introduced them to John, who took them to one side to talk them through what was happening medically to Sherlock. He was wise enough in his medical training to know to give them just enough information to understand, but not too much information to scare them.

Mycroft stood at the foot of the bed, next to Mary. Mary had never seen even a flicker of emotion cross Mycroft's face before but she could see him fighting it now. She put her arm around him and he looked straight into her eyes. "It's OK to let go for a moment you know" she said gently to him, as a single tear flowed down Mycroft's cheek "You know Mycroft, sometimes caring IS an advantage."

They stood at the end of the bed for several minutes. Mary was aware of Mycroft. It was almost like he didn't know HOW to let go. Like his emotions had been suppressed for so long that even when he needed to let them out he just couldn't. He was he first to talk when they eventually did and it wasn't to ask about how Sherlock was.

"Has something happened between my brother and Miss Hooper? I am aware they have been spending quite some time together, but judging by her current state it would appear that perhaps they are more than friends?" Mycroft asked Mary with almost a sneer in his voice.

"I suspect you may well be correct, Mycroft, but now isn't the time to start asking awkward questions. Sherlock's feelings for Molly and hers for him are entirely between themselves. As I said before, I know you believe that caring isn't an advantage and that sentiment is human error, but maybe, just maybe right now he needs her as much as she needs him."

Mycroft was silent. He didn't respond to Mary. It was so alien to him. All these people upset because of Sherlock. He inwardly wondered if it had been him in that bed, whether anyone at all would have been there. Probably Sherlock and maybe John but he doubted anyone else.

Sherlock's parents returned to the foot of the bed, having spent time talking with John and Molly. They both looked extremely tired and very upset. John handed them over to Mycroft saying "There's not much that you can do at the moment. Why don't you take them to 221b for a rest, and I promise I'll keep you updated if there is any change or any news."

"I'll take them back to my house. There's a room ready for them anyway, and I'll bring them back first thing in the morning. Mother does worry so and they need to eat and have a cup of tea. They wanted to see him, although I'm not sure seeing him in this state was the best thing." He walked past John and up the left hand side of the bed towards Sherlock. Mycroft masked his moves from them all but John could have sworn he saw Mycroft briefly stretch out and touch Sherlock's left hand before turning to go, taking his parents with him.

When they had gone Mrs Hudson commented "Well, they seem almost normal don't they? And I swear I saw an element of emotion from Mycroft. I knew it. He does care after all. Sherlock is his little brother at the end of the day, although I'm sure neither of them would be pleased with us for saying or commenting as such." They all laughed.

Molly was still sitting next to Sherlock, her gaze fixed upon him, watching his every breath to make sure that he was OK. Mary and Mrs Hudson went up to her "Molly, lets go and get a drink. We'll only be away for a short while then you can come back but you've had quite a shock and you need to look after yourself."

Molly was reluctant to go at first, insisting that someone bring her a drink so she could stay with Sherlock. In the end it took John to promise to stay with Sherlock and to text or call if there were any news which changed her mind. She eased herself up out of the chair, her legs still wobbly with emotion and Mary took her arm. The three women lightly kissed Sherlock on the forehead before leaving him for a break. John sat himself down in the chair Mary had vacated. It took him all his self control not to do exactly as Molly had been doing and to hold Sherlock's hand. 'Don't be daft John' he told himself 'Sherlock would kill you if he were awake.' So he contented himself with carrying on watching Sherlock's breathing as Molly had done.

He became lost in his own thoughts, remembering the good times they had had together, the drink and walk they had had with each other only a few days ago. Of Sherlock and Molly excitedly returning the bike to his house after their day out in Brighton. And now of how Sherlock and Molly's relationship had obviously developed into a physical one as well as the obvious emotional connection that was between them. Sherlock would of course deny it, but John knew Sherlock better than anyone, knew Sherlock was almost certainly now in love.

A light cough at from the end of the bed roused John and he looked up to see Lestrade standing there. "Heard via the grapevine that Sherlock had taken ill so I thought I'd pop in an see how he is?"

"Oh, hello Greg. Thanks for coming. He's not well at all to be honest."

"I can see that. I wasn't expecting ICU. Bit of a shock actually. I did wonder what was going on when he asked your permission to come to the lab the other day."

"Yes I'd been monitoring him quite closely for a few days"

"What's happened?"

John started to recount the whole tale to Lestrade, starting right back at the beginning with the situation in Riyadh., how he had been severely injured with a suspected bleed on the brain and had had to lay low for some time. How it had affected his eyesight, and he had started having headaches. How Molly had supported him through the opticians and the CT scans and the Ophthalmology appointments, through to when he took ill that morning. John of course missed out the information to do with Sherlock and Molly, feeling it was none of the inspectors business.

"So that's why he suddenly started wearing glasses then? Oh boy do I feel bad now. I made such sarcastic comments to him and I had no idea what the real reason was."

"Don't worry, you weren't the only one by any means."

"And what's the prognosis for him, John?"

"We don't know yet Greg to be honest. He's been operated on by the very best and they say it's under control which is as best as we an hope for at present. I've looked at the info from surgery. There were some hairy moments in there, but he's been pretty stable ever since. From my medical background I'd guess they'll start trying to wean him off the ventilator in the next 24 hours or so and take it from there.

"And how are you?"

"I'm fine. It's amazing how much of your medical training kicks in at times like this. He's my best friend. My best friend is lying in that bed." His voice started to waver. He took a deep breath and composed himself "but I have to be strong to help him and to support the girls through this. It's Molly that's most cut up about it all, understandably so."

"So there is something happening between Sherlock and Molly then?"

John laughed "Well, you know about as much as we do, but if I had to answer with a simple yes or no, then my answer would be a yes."

"I knew it!" Lestrade punched the air "Donovan will be so smug." Then he remembered where he was and what the situation was "Sorry John, it's just that Donovan and I had a fivers bet on with some of the other guys at the yard. We said they were together and the other guys just wouldn't believe us. I'll keep it under my hat for now though until Sherlock's back on his feet."

John and Lestrade continued their conversation for some time, mainly talking about the cases Sherlock had been working on recently, and wondering how quickly he'd be back on his feet to pick up a few more Lestrade needed help with.

It was such a relaxed conversation. So relaxed in fact that John didn't initially twig what was going on when the alarm started. It was the rush of doctors and nurses to the bed which jumped his mind into action. He and Lestrade were pushed out of the way as the senior registrar came running through.

"He's arresting. Code Red everyone."

Thank you so much for reading Sherlock and Molly's story. There is so much more to come. If you are enjoying, please do favourite, review or follow. I also have another story 'The Pulse Says It All' which is a complete story based around HLV season 3. Thanks again for reading x


	24. Chapter 24

For the second time in less than 24 hours, John's mind went into a whirl. Sherlock had been fine. He'd been sitting with him for ages, his observations and results were looking stable. What on earth had happened? Lestrade and John found themselves standing in the corridor, listening to the sounds coming from by Sherlock's bed. The medics were working on him, pumping his chest, fighting to bring him back round. He glanced at the clock. It was a little after 11pm.

Dr Channing came running past them and to Sherlock. John desperately wanted to go and join them, to help out, to be of use, but Lestrade held him back.

"Let them do their job, John. There's nothing you can do. Stay with me" he said, physically holding John back.

John came to his senses and then remembered. He had to call Molly and to bring her, Mrs Hudson and Mary back. They had to be here with Sherlock. They would never have forgiven him if he didn't call them straight away. He picked up his phone and dialled

"Molly, it's John. Erm, there's been a slight change. I think you need to get back here."

"What do you mean, a slight change, John?"

"Well, erm, being honest, erm... he's arrested Molly."

There was silence at the end of the phone and all John could hear was loud footsteps as if Molly had just dropped everything and was running as fast as she could. She must have been moving as fast as she could because it could only have been a matter of 2 minutes before she was up and by John's side, desperate to be with Sherlock.

"What's going on John?"

"We don't know, Molly. All I know is we were standing chatting by his bed and suddenly the alarm went off and he was arresting. The doctors and nurses came running and they've been working on him ever since."

Molly went pale and she started to wobble. John and Lestrade instinctively held her up, one under each arm. Mary and Mrs Hudson were just arriving and Mary saw what had happened. She grabbed a chair and put it under Molly so John and Lestrade could ease her down into it.

Mary asked exactly the same question as Molly and John filled her in. Her response was simple "John, you have to call Mycroft."

John was about to dial Mycroft's number when Dr Channing came out to them. John could see the doctors behind starting to prepare Sherlock's bed to be moved.

Dr Channing took them all aside "We've managed to stabilise him. It looks like he's had another massive bleed. We're going to take him straight back down to surgery now. I can't talk, but as soon as I have news for you I will fill you in. I'll head up the surgical team again and Prof McCartney is on call too. We'll do our very best for him."

John thanked him and watched as he ran off down the corridor behind Sherlock's bed which was being wheeled as fast as possible towards the lift leading to the operating theatre.

"You really do need to call Mycroft now" said Mary gently putting her hand on his shoulder.

John nodded and headed off to a quiet spot in the corner. He dialled Mycroft

"Ah John, how's things? My little brother OK?"

"Mycroft, actually no he's not." John figured there was no point beating about the bush. Mycroft wouldn't with him so John just told it him straight. "They believe he's had another bleed on the brain. He's arrested but they've stabilised him. He's back in emergency surgery. I thought you'd want to know."

"Thank you for letting me know, John" said Mycroft flatly. "I think I'll not tell our parents at the moment. They are both asleep in bed. I'll be with you shortly." And with that, he hung up.

When John turned around at the end of his call, everyone had gone. There was a nurse waiting for him. He knew where he was being taken - back into the relatives room. He was soon there and everyone was waiting, just as earlier in the day with the exception that this time Lestrade was with them too.

Molly was sitting in the corner. John went to join her.

"Penny for your thoughts, Molly," he said as he sat down beside her

"I can't help but think, John" she said

"About what, Molly?"

"About the number if similar injuries to this I've seen come through the morgue in my time. About the number of people who haven't pulled through an injury such as this. Why should Sherlock be any different? Why should he be the one to survive when so many haven't? What am I going to do if he doesn't pull through, John?"

"He will, Molly. This is Sherlock we're talking about."

"But how do you know, John? How can you be so sure? You know the mortality rate on injuries such as this. It's too high for comfort." Molly found herself beginning to sob again. The tears running freely. Lestrade, Mrs Hudson and Mary turned to her and moved closer to her in the room. Molly was simply voicing the fears that they all had. Vocalising how worried and frightened they all were.

Molly pulled out her phone and flicked it to photos. She pulled up the photo of her and Sherlock on the beach, standing proudly in front of their sand palace, embracing each other so tightly. "This was just 5 days ago, John. Life is so precious. On Sunday when this was taken I'd never have dreamt that by Thursday he'd be fighting for his life and be so very poorly. Oh John, will we ever get to do this again? Will I ever look into his eyes again and know how ... well, know how we feel about each other?"

John put his arm around Molly and again as he had done so many times that day, let her cry into his shoulder. And this time he did not fight his own emotions as he had done all day. He too let the tears fall. Tears of worry and fear for a friend who would probably be so cross with him if he knew the emotions John was experiencing because of him.

When John looked up, it came as no surprise to him that the other three were crying too. Not only was Sherlock so very ill, but it had been a long and draining day for them all. John was particularly concerned about Mrs Hudson who was looking very tired and frail. John beckoned Mary over to him.

"Mrs Hudson. I'm worried about her"

"I was thinking the same thing. I know she won't want to leave but I think it best if I take her home. I know you'll keep us updated."

"Yes, I think that would be for the best, Mary" said John gently standing up from holding Molly. John and Mary went over to Mrs Hudson. They explained their thoughts and at first she was very reluctant to move. She did not want to leave the hospital or to leave being near Sherlock, but John was insistent. He promised to call the moment he had news on Sherlock's condition, regardless of the time.

Mary helped Mrs Hudson on with her coat, ready for the night time chill which would hit them outside. John, Molly and Lestrade gave them each a kiss and Lestrade accompanied them both out of the building and into a cab, before returning back to the relatives room.

"You don't need to stay, Greg."

"Yes I do, John. I just feel I want to be here - for you and Molly as much as for Sherlock. If nothing else I can be a runner and fetch cups of tea. Talking of being a runner, have you guys eaten? You both look as pale as anything." John shook his head "Right, I'll go and fetch sandwiches. Molly, you want tuna, right? John?"

"Thanks Greg. Cheese or chicken or salad or something would be great. To be honest I'll eat absolutely anything at all that you bring me I'm that hungry."

Greg nodded, grabbed his coat and scarf and was gone, leaving John and Molly sitting in silence. They were both to emotionally drained and exhausted for conversation and they settled on the two sofas in the room, stretching out on their respective ones. It didn't take them long to drop off at all, and they didn't hear Greg return into the room some 15 minutes later with sandwiches and chocolate bars.

They also didn't hear Mycroft enter the room. He nodded to Greg and sat himself down in the corner. "Is there any news?" he asked almost whispering

"Nothing as of yet. We're just sitting, waiting"

"John and Molly been asleep long?"

"Only 15 minutes or so. They've had quite a day of it, and they may well need their strength even more when news comes out from the operating theatre. I popped out to grab them both a sandwich and when I got back I found them both fast asleep. Best thing they can do at this point I think."

It was another hour or so before John started to rouse. When he did fully awaken he was extremely grateful for the sandwich which Lestrade had brought him and for the cup of tea brought by the nurse looking after them. A short while later Molly too awoke and through blurry eyes ate her sandwich faster than was probably healthy. Both John and Molly looked a little more refreshed for their sleep, and a little better prepared to face any news that might hit them during the night.

After eating, John spoke to Mycroft "You didn't tell your parents then?"

"I decided against it. They were both resting when I left and there is little they can do here. I will contact them should the need arise. On balance of probability, at their age and time in life, allowing them to rest is the better option of the two I think."

"I would tend to agree," stated John.

John had no idea what time it was. He looked at his watch which read 4.30am. Sherlock had been in surgery for around 5 hours with no word. Surely that was good news? They'd have been straight out to tell them all if something had gone wrong.

It was as if Dr Channing had read his mind. At that very moment the door to the relatives room opened and Dr Channing walked in. He looked utterly exhausted but his eyes were shining.

"He's come through surgery again. It was as we thought, another massive bleed but we have again managed to control it. We have done a much more in depth surgical patch this time, involving going into his skull. We didn't want to do it the first time but his arrest and second bleed left us with no option. He's being moved back to ICU as we speak and we're going to keep him sedated and ventilated for the next few days. It's very early days for him yet, but I'm quietly optimistic. Lets keep our fingers crossed and see how the next few hours and days pan out."

Molly jumped up out of her chair and ran to him. She put her arms around him. "Thank you so much" she said "I know he's not out of danger yet, but he has a chance at least. I can't thank you enough."


	25. Chapter 25

Molly and John both grabbed their phones. Molly to phone Mary, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade and John to call Mycroft and Sherlock's parents. Both knew that no-one would mind being woken up at this hour. In fact they both doubted if anyone had slept at all.

Their suspicions were correct. Mary, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade were sitting in the lounge of 221b playing a board game and waiting for news. They had moved upstairs as the flat was so much bigger than Mrs Hudson's small space and Molly guessed that they wanted to be 'near' to Sherlock anyway. Mary almost screamed down the phone at Molly when she said Sherlock was out of surgery and back in ICU. She could hear Greg and Mrs Hudson talking in the background. She promised to keep them posted if there were any developments and they all promised to come and visit later in the day. There was still an understanding that it was a critical situation for Sherlock, but there was also an overwhelming relief that he was at least out of surgery.

John's call to Mycroft was a little less cheery. John relayed the update to Mycroft who simply responded with a 'very good' and put the phone down. There wasn't even a 'thank you for calling, John.' But at least Mycroft knew and John guessed, correctly as it turned out, that Mycroft had gone straight into his parents bedroom to update them on the fact Sherlock had taken ill again, and then was through surgery for a second time.

Dr Channing had waited with them in the relatives room, and when they finished their calls, he took Molly and John up to the ward. Sherlock was back in exactly the same spot as he had been earlier, even the nursing staff were the same although they were coming towards the end of their shift. They greeted John and Molly with a cheerful 'hello' followed by 'we are so glad to see him back here. We were worried for a while.'

Sherlock was being tended to by several nursing staff, as he was still under sedation. John and Molly were shown to two chairs, one either side of the bed, where they were told to sit and wait until the nursing staff were done.

Molly felt utterly exhausted. It had been an utterly draining 20 hours and she gladly sat down next to the bed. Her body felt incredibly heavy. She looked over to John. She presumed he looked exactly as she felt, because she could see his eyelids drooping, and his body taking on the demeanour of someone who just wanted to rest after being totally and utterly emotionally drained.

Molly roused. Her neck was aching and she was dying for a drink. It took her a moment to get her bearings of where she was and then she remembered. She was sitting in a chair in hospital, next to Sherlock's bed. She must have dozed off in the chair. She looked across. John was fast asleep in the chair on the opposite side of the bed. She had no idea what time it was but it was light outside. She looked at her watch - 9.30am. She estimated she'd been asleep for maybe 2 or 3 hours.

In the bed next to her Sherlock was peaceful. The only sound coming from him was the rasp and whir of the ventilator which was inflating and deflating his lungs with almost deafening regularity. She checked over his vital signs. His blood pressure and pulse were stable, and within where they should be. He was a touch tachycardic but that was to be expected following two lots of major surgery within 12 hours. The drips in his arm remained - the saline, the blood transfusion and again what appeared to be an anti biotic.

Molly relaxed a little when she had checked these. It was obviously going to be a very long road for Sherlock but the early signs were very positive. She knew he had been in the hands of an amazing surgeon - one who she knew time and again had saved people's lives and had brought them back from what looked like a very bleak situation. She moved her chair around so it faced the bed, and she pulled herself into the bed. She lent over and entwined her hand into his. It was only then that she allowed herself to fully take in just what had happened to him.

She knew he would be heart broken but, she kept telling herself, it would grow back. It wouldn't take long. They had shaved his head, his beautiful curls gone. She could see the point of entry where they had operated. In fact it wasn't a point, it was quite a large area, all swollen at present, but life saving. In the grand scheme of things, losing hair was actually the least of his worries.

She tightened the grip on his unresponsive hand. Only 36 hours earlier that hand had done amazing things to her body. They had kissed intensely, they had actually made love. And now there was nothing. Just the bleep of machines keeping him alive, giving Molly the glimmer of hope that perhaps he would come back to her, that perhaps he would pull through this.

She became conscious of John starting to rouse. His hand went straight up to rub his neck, which was obviously stiff like Molly's from having slept in an upright chair. His eyes turned to her

"How is he?"

"Seems OK at present. I've checked his vitals and it's all quite steady. He's a touch tachycardic, but that's to be expected and they're giving him some units of blood so that will help."

"I see they've shaved his head this time."

"Yes, he'll be upset when he knows. But it will grow back, John. Looks like a neat scar. Quite an incision."

"Looks like they managed to keep the invasion of the cranium to a minimum. That's a good sign at least."

Molly and John sat looking at him and taking in the sight. This brilliant man lying on the bed, helpless and totally reliant on technology to function.

They were both relieved when they saw the consultant covering for Dr Channing come over to see them.

"Dr Channing's resting at present. He's promised he'll be back as soon as he can to pick back up with you. I'm Dr Rayabov."

"Pleased to meet you" said John, shaking his hand. "I guess you don't probably know that much at present but what's the update?"

"Well, I've read the case notes and I've checked him over several times while you were both asleep. So far so good I think. The early signs are very positive. Of course we'll only really know how it's gone once we try to wake him up."

"Brain damage, you mean?" asked Molly with a quiver in her voice

"Yes. It's hard to predict at this stage. What looks positive on the outside can be problematic on the inside as I'm sure you are aware. You're a pathologist I believe Miss Hooper? And you're an Army Doctor I believe Dr Watson? Please don't look so alarmed. Dr Channing did a very thorough hand over to me while we were standing by the bed. You were both fast asleep but he updated me on your backgrounds. What I mean to say is that he told me that I could explain things clearly to you both and you would understand."

Molly and John nodded. "Yes, we'd like to know exactly what has gone on. Please tell us a little more about the surgery." John was leaning forwards, keen to understand just what his friend had gone through.

Dr Rayabov spent the next 10 minutes talking John and Molly through Sherlock's surgery. He pointed to various areas on Sherlock's head, showing them what had been done at each point and why. He explained that Sherlock had indeed had a heart attack but that it was a warning sign for what was going on in his brain rather than because of any heart condition.

"He was stabilised quite quickly from the attack and monitored closely during surgery. He was totally fine. For such major brain surgery he came through it relatively well and unscathed."

John and Molly thanked Dr Rayabov, who said he would be popping back every hour or so to monitor Sherlock. It must have been obvious to the nurse looking after Sherlock that they were both exhausted as within seconds, two cups of tea and some sandwiches arrived.

The rest of the morning and early afternoon thankfully passed uneventfully. Sherlock's checks and monitorings remained stable. Molly had remained in close text contact with Mary, informing those back at Baker Street that Sherlock was stable and responding well to treatment. John had received a couple of texts off Mycroft, each as curt as the original phone call had been earlier. But John mused to himself that Mycroft wouldn't have contacted him at all if he didn't care. Mycroft was a funny one. To him, caring wasn't an advantage but it was quite clear to anyone just how much he really did care about his little brother.

It was around 2pm that Mary and Mrs Hudson came to see Sherlock. Lestrade had left them as soon as news hit that Sherlock was out of surgery. Mary offered straight away to stay with Sherlock and for Molly and John to get home, get some rest and freshened up before coming back later. Molly was reluctant to leave him, understandably so, seeing how last time she left she had been called back because he had arrested. Mary, however, was insistent. And Molly and John knew they had to sleep. They would be no good to Sherlock at all if they collapsed into a state of exhaustion.

Molly and John agreed to head off for a bit but they wanted to wait until the next Dr's round before heading off. They knew the doctor was due within the next 15 or so minutes and they wanted to get an update first. They were thrilled when they saw that it was Dr Channing back on duty. He was looking weary from the long day and night he'd just had but he was bright eyed.

He picked up Sherlock's charts and carefully eyed all the readings, before going over to Sherlock. He gently prized open and eye and flashed his light across it to check his pupil reflexes.

"It's looking good at the moment, Molly" Dr Channing said, addressing his update straight to her. John smiled. Dr Channing had it totally sussed out. Molly was the one that counted. She'd always counted to Sherlock but right at this time she was the one who counted the most to him, and so it was right that she was the one who got the update. "We'll see how he goes for the next few hours and them perhaps we'll start to wake him a little and see how he goes. Are you both heading off for a rest now?" They nodded "Good, I'm glad. He's in capable hands" He looked across at Mary and Mrs Hudson. "I'm on duty until the early hours now, so come back when you're both rested and lets see how he is going on and we can take it from there."

Molly couldn't help herself. She gave Dr Channing an enormous hug. She was so overwhelmingly grateful to him. In her exhausted state, her emotions were very heightened but she knew that even if she hadn't been tired she would still have profusely thanked him.

John stood up and picked up both their coats. "C'mon Molly. It's time you went back to your flat for a bit and had a rest and a freshen up. Mary, I'll pop home for a bit and be back later." He kissed Mary and Mrs Hudson on the cheek and helped Molly on with her coat. .

Molly went over to Sherlock and gently kissed him on the forehead. "See you later" she whispered into his ear.


	26. Chapter 26

Molly and John had not long left, and Mary and Mrs Hudson settled into the chairs, when Mycroft and his parents arrived. Understandably Mr & Mrs Holmes were looking worried as they saw Sherlock, again critically ill, wired up to monitors, his life dependant upon the ventilator which was breathing for him.

Mary immediately stood up and gave Mrs Holmes her chair. Mrs Hudson offered to do the same but Mr Holmes refused. "I could not take a chair off a lady. Please remain seated." he said in a gentle and kind but firm voice. Mrs Hudson immediately warmed to him.

She looked at Mr & Mrs Holmes. They were so very different from Sherlock and Mycroft. Clearly so loving towards each other and especially caring towards their boys. Mrs Hudson wondered how on earth two boys like Mycroft and Sherlock could have come from two parents such as these.

Mycroft disappeared for a while then came back with Dr Channing, who introduced himself. He was able to take them all through exactly what had happened last night. It was good for Mary and Mrs Hudson to hear it as they were not fully aware of what had happened. As Dr Channing spoke, the tears rolled down Mrs Holmes face. She held Sherlock's unresponsive hand tightly as she listened to how ill he had been and still was. It was clear just how lucky he had been for a second time.

It was apparent to Mary and Mrs Hudson that the Holmes family needed some time on their own. Mary beckoned to Mrs Hudson that they should leave for a short while and they made their excuses, saying they were going to get a cup of tea and would be back in a bit. Mr Holmes moved into Mrs Hudson's chair and sat himself down. Mycroft then went and gently sat at the end of Sherlock's bed and lowered his head, his body gently rocking, clearly allowing tears to flow. Mary watched them from the window. They were silent. Mr Holmes' hand had taken Sherlock's other hand. He was lying there still and unresponsive, one parent on each hand and his brother at the end of the bed. Sherlock was, for now, in the safest hands he could possibly be in. They were safe to leave him be. For one short space of time the Holmes family were a loving, close knit family again. The barriers had been lowered by Mycroft and he was allowing his emotions to run freely. As Mary walked away from the scene, she doubted if there would ever be a time again when the Holmes family would be so open with each other.

Mrs Hudson took Mary's arm as they walked along the corridor. "They seem such a normal family on the surface don't they" she said absentmindedly.

Mary nodded. "You know, I was just thinking the same thing. Mr and Mrs Holmes are so very normal aren't they? Not one bit like Sherlock or Mycroft. But I really think Mycroft has just let the barriers down for a bit. Do him the power of good to let some emotion out for a bit. I've always said to John that underneath it all Sherlock's just a normal, regular guy who happens to be able to control his emotions much better than the rest of us. A complete genius, but underneath that cold exterior, just a regular guy. I think we're starting to see him open up now with Molly... " her voice trailed off "It will be OK Mrs Hudson won't it? I mean, Sherlock will get well again won't he? I can't bear to think how he'd cope or how Molly would cope if there was any form of damage there."

Mrs Hudson cut Mary off "You can't think like that Mary. You have to be positive for Sherlock. I'm confident things will be fine. This is Sherlock we're talking about. He's the master of making things turn out fine."

"I do hope you are right Mrs Hudson" said Mary hugging her.

Mrs Hudson and Mary sat in the hospital canteen for a while drinking tea and having bite to eat. Neither of them was truly hungry but they knew they had to keep up their strength for Sherlock's sake.

It was about an hour and a half later that Mary's phone bleeped. It was a text from Mycroft telling her that he and his parents were about to leave. Mary text back to say they'd be up shortly.

When Mary and Mrs Hudson did return the Holmes family had already left and the nurse was with Sherlock checking all his monitors, drips and observations. He remained still and un responsive, but his observations and monitoring were looking positive which was a relief. Mary text John to let him know. John text back to let her know that he and Molly were at 221b. They'd both had a couple of hours sleep and were planning to start heading back soon.

Sleeping in the chairs by the side of Sherlock's bed had obviously become common place because Mary suddenly found herself aware of her surroundings with a hand upon her leg which didn't belong to her. She looked through weary eyes to see John standing next to her with his hand on her knee

"Wakey wakey sleepy head" he said gently with a smile on his face.

"How long have you been here?" Mary asked suddenly roused from her slumber. "How's Sherlock?" She turned her head immediately in his direction.

"About half an hour" smiled John "We've been catching up with the doctors about Sherlock's condition. His observations are looking stronger and stronger, and they're cautiously optimistic."

"What time is it?"

"About 7pm" said John with a smile. "Dr Channing's going to pop in soon to see how Sherlock is. He wants to start to wake him if the signs are good."

"Isn't that a bit early, John? He's only been out of his second lot of surgery for about 15 hours or so."

"It might be. We'll only know once we start to wake him. Dr Channing is optimistic. Lets see".

The on duty nurse popped in with tea for them all and they sat silently drinking it, watching Sherlock's chest rise and fall with regulated regularity. Molly still couldn't get over how he looked

"I know I've said it before John but he's going to be heart broken about his hair. It'll grow back yes, but it will take ages. The thing that will upset him most is that it won't be grown back for your wedding."

"He'll understand, Molly. Lets just hope he comes out of this well enough the other side. There's nothing Dr Channing could do to avoid it this time. "

"Did I hear my name?" asked Dr Channing popping his head around the door and smiling at John. "How's he doing, John?"

"Well, I've had a look at the notes and from how he's been, all appears well. But we thought that last night didn't we?"

Dr Channing picked up the notes and studied them carefully. He walked up to Sherlock and shone a light into his eyes, checked his pulse, blood pressure, temperature etc. "He's a touch tachycardic I see. Still, that's to be expected." He turned to Molly and John "I think we'll let him sleep a few hours more. I'm handing over to Dr Rayabov later on, and I want to be the one to start to wake him. If he's still stable when I come in mid morning tomorrow, then we'll start to wean him slowly off the drugs and the ventilator then to see how things are."

Molly immediately asked him "What are his chances?"

"No idea at present to be honest. We'll only really know when he wakes up and starts responding to us. We're looking for him to be quite settled upon waking up. Patients with injuries like this have been known to get quite aggressive when they wake and this can cause them more damage so we need him to stay calm. That's why I want to wake him myself, as I want to make sure it's done at the right speed and by withdrawing the right amounts of medication at the right time. Best thing you can all do in the mean time is to get some sleep. Tomorrow may be a very long day" and with that, he headed out of the room.

The four of them sat in silence for a while before John spoke up "I'm happy to stay with him tonight. You three get home and get some rest. You'll be much better for it."

"I'm not leaving him, John" Molly said quietly. "I'll settle myself in on one of these chairs for the night, but I'm not leaving him now until he wakes up." John nodded at her. He knew she would say that.

"I'll take Mrs Hudson home again" Mary volunteered. we'll come back in the morning. "You ought to phone Mycroft too John to give him the update." Mrs Hudson walked towards Molly, gave her a big hug and then went over to John and did the same. She then headed for the door. "See you in the morning" said Mary hugging Molly "Please keep us posted if there is any news or any developments won't you?"

"Of course" said John walking towards Mary. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

John and Molly watched as Mrs Hudson and Mary walked down the corridor and got into the lift. Their attention turned back to the figure in the bed. So still and unresponsive, but somehow still Sherlock. His colour was so much better than it had been for a while.

"He's still there, John. I know he is" said Molly sitting down next to him and taking hold of his hand. "He's in there. He's really tired and exhausted and his body is very broken, but I know he's in there. It'll take some time to get him back but I'm sure we will. I've got to be optimistic haven't I?"

"Of course you have, Molly. As you say, he has a very long road ahead of him. He will sleep for days and days while recovering. His body will need to regain all its strength. He went into this quite weak so it will take some time, but he'll get there. We just have to be there to help him through."

"Of course we'll be there, John. That's what friends are for."


	27. Chapter 27

Even though it was early in the evening, Molly and John must have dropped off. Neither of them were aware of the constant stream of doctors and nurses coming in during the night to check on Sherlock, or the noise and hubbub that made up a busy ICU department.

It was John who was first to rouse. He looked at his watch. It was 6am. He stretched a little in the chair then leaned over to check on Sherlock who was in exactly the same position as he had left him last night, the ventilator still inflating and deflating his chest at consistently regular intervals.

He looked over a little further to Molly who was fast asleep in her chair. During the night someone had obviously put a blanket over both of them and given them both a pillow. John didn't remember. John found his blanket somewhere near his feet, and his head was resting on his pillow. Molly had snuggled into hers. He could just see the top of her head poking out above the white of the hospital blanket, her head buried in her pillow. He smiled as he looked at her. Of course she wasn't going to leave Sherlock's side. Sherlock had always said that John was his only friend but he knew for a fact that was not true. Sherlock had Molly now.

John sat himself upright, and stretched his arms. He stood up slowly and quietly so as not to disturb Molly. He walked out of the room glancing back into the room, and he saw something he couldn't see from his side of the bed. Molly's hand was stretched out from underneath the blanket. It had reached out and held onto Sherlock's hand. She had been asleep all night holding his hand. John smiled and left them be. Sherlock may or may not have been aware of her gesture, but John liked to think he could feel and he was aware and that Molly's gentle touch was some form of support to him.

John headed down to the canteen, and picked up two cups of coffee and two sandwiches. He figured it wouldn't be long until Molly awoke so he'd take her some breakfast. He was glad of the stretch of his legs having spent so long sitting in the chair. He checked his mobile. There were texts from many people including Lestrade, Donovan (which quite surprised John), Mary and Mycroft. He didn't want to get into a conversation with them all so he simply blanket text them all back that Sherlock had had a comfortable night and they were waiting for Dr Channing to come round.

He then popped a quick call into Mary for a more detailed update. He knew Mary and Mrs Hudson would want to know what had gone on. As suspected, Mary had spent the night at 221b in his old bedroom. They were both keen to return to Sherlock's side but John advised them that for now there wasn't much they could do. So they both came to the decision that they'd spend the morning cleaning Sherlock's flat as at least that was something useful they could do to help. John smiled to himself. He wasn't sure that Sherlock would be particularly pleased with this - and he also dreaded to think what Mary and Mrs Hudson might find. Sherlock was known to keep some interesting things in his fridge and cupboard. He was sure at some point the girls would find something that would make them jump or scream. He smiled to himself at the thought.

It was about 30 minutes after leaving the room that he arrived back. Molly was awake but still lying snuggled up in her blanket. Her hand was still in Sherlock's and her gaze was firmly fixed on him. She turned her head when she saw John and exclaimed when she saw what he had brought.

"Oh John, you read my mind! That is just what I need. Thank you so much." She sat up and tucked into the sandwich like she had never eaten before.

"Slow down Molly, you'll give yourself indigestion!"

"What time is it? I've not looked at my watch."

"It's about 6:30am"

Molly groaned. "This is going to be such a long day. John, I'm really nervous. What if they can't wake him? Or when he wakes he doesn't remember who we are or there is some kind of problem?"

"Then we'll cross that bridge when it comes to it. It's unthinkable that something might change for him, I know that, but it may be a reality. He's a really poorly man. He's had two massive bleeds on the brain and a significant head injury. He's had the best care possible but even that doesn't guarantee success. Lets just keep our fingers crossed."

Molly nodded and sipped her coffee. Her stomach was churning and turning over. She didn't know what to think.

It was a welcome distraction when the nurse who was a constant presence at the end of the bed said that it was time to do the latest round of observations. Molly and John watched in interest as Sherlock was checked over. The current readings were looking good. Blood pressure, heart rate, temperature all within range. Then came the time they had to see if he reacted to pain. What was apparent was that part of Sherlock's brain was working at least. He lashed out at the feeling, almost ripping out his ventilator. Molly held her breath for a while hoping he wouldn't hurt himself. But he soon settled and was back off to sleep again.

"It's a good sign" John said to Molly across the bed. "His reactions to pain are slowly getting more pronounced and clearer. It's obvious he's beginning to wake a little and respond. That's just what we want to see."

The next few hours passed uneventfully. Sherlock's observations were consistent and his reaction to pain was becoming more pronounced. John and Molly looked at each other in relief each time.

It was around 10am when there was a gentle knock at the door and the familiar face of Dr Channing appeared around the door frame. "How's he been?"

"Ok we think" replied John. "Observations look pretty steady."

Dr Channing walked to the end of the bed and picked up the charts. He let out a few hmm's and ah's before walking up to Sherlock and taking a good look at him. "Yes, this is the kind of set of readings we want to see. I think it's time to gently start waking him. I'll get the team in place and lets take it from there. You both OK with that?" He looked to Molly first then to John. Both of them nodded in response. Dr Channing headed out of the door and they saw him go to the nurses station and have a conversation with a couple of colleagues.

"John, I'm nervous" said Molly looking a little pale

"It has to be done, Molly. You know that as well as anyone. We have to know what's going on in there."

It was a slow moving 15 minutes before Dr Channing returned with three others, two nurses and another doctor. They explained the process they were going to undertake to John and Molly although both of them had enough medical training to know what was going to happen anyway. They moved Molly and John to the foot of the bed, and one doctor and one nurse went to either side of Sherlock. Then Dr Channing went and fiddled with one of the drip bags and with the medication pump which was next to Sherlock.

"It should take about 10 minutes for us to start to see some form of reaction from him. It may be slow at first. Don't expect anything too dramatic, OK?"

But Dr Channing's prediction proved to be wrong. Within a matter of two minutes, Sherlock was starting to become agitated. Dr Channing was watching him closely. Sherlock was becoming increasingly agitated as time went on. John's hand instinctively went to Molly's.

"What John? What's the problem?"

"Agitation isn't a good sign, Molly."

"Why not, John? What's wrong?"

"Agitation is often an indicator of brain damage, Molly. It's not good. It's the way the brain copes with a trauma, and can often be the first signs that something isn't right. We need to see him calm down and quickly. Or he could do himself some damage both to his brain and to anything he might try to pull out. He's got a lot of tubes in him at the moment and he's liable to try and pull any one of them out. His ventilator, his catheter, his drips in his arm and neck. All are a target for someone who is agitated. That's part of the reason there are 4 of them round his bed - to stop him from hurting himself."

Molly felt her hand grip John's more and more tightly as he spoke. They found themselves holding each other as they watched the drama unfold in the bed in front of them. Sherlock was really beginning to get upset. And it was upsetting for them both. Sherlock was usually so in control of his emotions, every movement or action thought through and controlled, but this was so different. This was a man totally out of control, someone unaware of what they were doing. His arms were flailing. Sherlock was a lot stronger and fitter than people ever gave him credit for, and it was taking the strength of all 4 doctors and nurses to hold him down.

He began ripping at his ventilator tube. "Just let him pull it out" Dr Channing shouted to the others. "We can monitor him and re-sedate him and put it back in if we need to, but for now it's upsetting him. He wants it gone. Leave him."

They stepped away slightly, and Sherlock yanked at the tube down his throat. Two firm pulls later and it was out. Sherlock was coughing and wretching at the pain his action had caused.

And then he was silent. He was still on the bed, not moving. John and Molly watched carefully, praying that they would see the gentle rise and fall of his chest. They could see Dr Channing and the others waiting for the same thing too.

It felt like an age with nothing. Molly would feel herself starting to shake. John had a firm grip on her but she could tell he too was starting to wobble.

And then it came. Slowly at first but it was there. Sherlock's chest definitely moved up and down. Molly was sure of it. And then once again, up and then down. She could feel the relief sweeping over her. He was OK. He had exhausted himself but he was OK. He was breathing for himself.

John looked over to Dr Channing who was looking a little pale. "He gave us a hairy moment there didn't he? But the reactions he gave were OK. It sometimes happens that they get agitated. It's how they behave that matters. The fact is he felt he had a tube in him that he didn't want so he got agitated at that. Once it was removed, he calmed down again and he's asleep again now.

"We'll need to watch him carefully. I've popped up the sedation a bit again now so he can sleep safely and we know he won't wake again until we intervene. There are several more tubes which I suspect he will want to remove before we can wake him fully. I don't want to remove any of them - I didn't really want him off the ventilator yet - but he appears to be coping fine so that's good. I'll head back again in a couple of hours and lets start to wake him again."

And with that Dr Channing was gone. Molly and John were still standing next to each other, holding onto each other.

Molly looked at John "I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. I'm shaking like a leaf"

"Me too" said John "Lets go and grab a coffee. He'll be fine for the next half hour or so. We could both do with the break I think."

Molly nodded. She needed to stretch her legs and to get out of the room. She went over to Sherlock and gently kissed his forehead before nodding to John and they both headed downstairs.


	28. Chapter 28

Molly looked at her watch as she sipped her coffee. It was 11am, and she felt like she needed to go to bed and sleep already.

John had been busy on his phone. He'd called Mary and updated her, text Lestrade and then called Mycroft and their parents. He sat down next to Molly with a sigh "Who knew this could be so draining, eh? And we're not even the ones who are ill. That's Sherlock."

"Yes, I'm exhausted" Molly said with a yawn. She skipped a beat then said quietly "Do you think he'll be OK?"

"I think it's still early days Molly. Dr Channing certainly didn't seem unduly worried then did he? I guess we have to take our lead from him. As I said before, the agitation bothers me, but it does makes sense that Sherlock simply wanted the tubes gone. Lets face it, if you had a tube stuck down your throat like that, you'd want it gone too I guess."

They spent a good hour sitting in the canteen, glad of the break away from the ward, reassured in the knowledge that Sherlock would not wake for some time as he had exhausted himself so much. It was Molly who made the first move to head back and John followed behind.

When they got back up to the room, Mycroft and Sherlock's parents were there with Lestrade, who had popped in to see how Sherlock was. Sherlock's mother was sitting next to the bed in the chair Molly had spent the night in. Sherlock's father was standing next to her. For once Mycroft seemed very relieved to see John and Molly

"I'm glad to see you both. How did it go this morning?" said Mycroft directly to John.

John filled Mycroft and Lestrade in while Molly went to speak with Mr and Mrs Holmes, who looked like they'd not slept for a year. Molly again smiled to herself at how very different they were to their sons. They were kind, thoughtful and caring people who obviously adored their two sons very much. Mrs Holmes had a warmth to her that Molly took to very much.

When John had finished talking to Mycroft and Lestrade he headed over to Mr and Mrs Holmes to brief them too. Mycroft followed John and stood with his parents while John spoke.

Molly walked up to Greg at the foot of the bed. "They're not a bit like their sons are they, Mr and Mrs Holmes? They're actually quite normal. Kind of a shock that they had children like Mycroft and Sherlock I should think."

"John and I said just that exact thing when we first met them. They are lovely. Mrs Holmes has a warmth about her that I've really taken to and Mr Holmes is such a sweetheart. He obviously adores her and their two boys. I do wonder how on earth the two of them turned out as they did. They obviously had such a loving home to grow up in."

It was a quiet scene for a while, with the six of them chatting around Sherlock's bed. It was only the arrival of Dr Channing that disturbed them. Molly looked at her watch. It was 1.30pm and Sherlock had been sleeping again for 2 1/2 hours.

"It's time to wake him again" said Dr Channing. "I think it might be an idea for Mr and Mrs Holmes to be out of the room when this happens."

Mycroft and Lestrade nodded and escorted Mr and Mrs Holmes out. "We'll go for drink in the canteen. Please give us a call when we can head back up, John."

The same process was undertaken as previously. 4 doctors and nurses surrounded the bed and slowly Dr Channing turned down the sedation "I intend to keep his sedation much lower this time" he said to John and Molly "I want to start to ease him off it completely"

As before, it only took a couple of minutes for Sherlock to start to rouse again. He was less agitated this time, and much calmer. "He's not got the ventilator bothering him at the moment" said Dr Channing. "It's a hopeful sign that he's more settled."

Sherlock's eyes opened and slowly he started to scan the room. It was obvious that he was looking for someone but he was struggling. He was looking but his face kept scrunching up. Then Molly realised. She walked over to the cabinet next to his bed and took out his glasses. She gently put them onto him, and almost instantly Sherlock's expression relaxed. His eyes looked around the room a little before fixing straight onto Molly. The corners of his mouth curled up into the smallest of smiles. Molly's heart began to beat faster. She turned to John and smiled and nodded. Sherlock knew her. He recognised her. All was not lost.

Molly walked to the bed and sat down next to Sherlock in her chair. She gently leaned over and took his hand in hers. She had done the same last night but there was no reaction from Sherlock. His hand had remained limp all night and it was she who had gripped his hand in hers. This time it was different. She felt his hand wrap around hers and give a squeeze. Ok, it was a tired squeeze, more of a slight grasp really but it was definitely there. He was definitely holding her hand. Molly's heart jumped for joy as she looked deep into his eyes. He returned the gaze for a few moments before slowly closing his eyes. He was exhausted and was sleeping again in an instant.

Molly looked at John, the tears rolling down her face. She could see that his reaction was exactly the same. Tears of joy and relief. Sherlock was still in there and he was going to be OK. There was a long road to cover for his recovery but it had started.

Dr Channing checked Sherlock over. His vitals were strong. "That went as well as could be hoped. And he obviously thinks a lot of you, Molly. People waking from such circumstances always look to the person who means the most to them first of all. Take that as you will but I think you know what it means."

Some more brief checks completed and Dr Channing said he'd be back again in a couple of hours to check on Sherlock but that from now on unless circumstances changed, Sherlock remained un-sedated. Time would now tell.

John was straight on the phone to Mycroft to tell him to come up before he phoned Mary to keep her and Mrs Hudson up to date. John could hear Mary and Mrs Hudson hugging each other on the other end of the phone. They promised to head in later to see Sherlock.

Mr and Mrs Holmes kept their second visit brief. They were relieved to hear that things had progressed so well. Molly remained seated by Sherlock throughout. Even in his sleep his hand was still gripping onto Molly's and Molly was not prepared to leave him for one moment. Mrs Holmes walked up to Molly and simply put her hand on her shoulder. It was a caring touch, and Mrs Holmes looked into Molly's eyes. They did not need to say anything to each other, they understood what the other was thinking. Mrs Holmes understood how Molly felt about Sherlock. She knew that despite everything Molly had managed to break down Sherlock's emotions and to reach something that few other people had done before. And in return Molly tried, in her expression, to tell Mrs Holmes that she would look after Sherlock. That he was safe with her and she would stay with him until he was well, and then far beyond.

Mycroft and Lestrade remained out of the way, allowing Sherlock's parents to spend some time with him, albeit brief. They were soon ready to go, and they said their goodbye's. John escorted them all to the stair well, and watched as the four of them left. He watched Mycroft and Lestrade in particular. There was something different about them. They were almost close. His thoughts wandered for a moment before he shook his head. Mycroft and Lestrade. Surely not? He stopped for a moment and leaned on the banister of the staircase he was standing on. He pulled his thought back to Sherlock and Molly. Sherlock had remembered her. That was the best news and such a positive step forwards. The long road to recovery had started.

He walked back into Sherlock's room and smiled. Molly had fallen asleep, her head on Sherlock's bed almost on his pillow, their hands still entwined, their heads almost touching. John quietly left the room again to go for a coffee. Sherlock was in safe hands.


	29. Chapter 29

The rest of the day passed quietly. Molly slept for a couple of hours, John drank several cups of coffee to stay awake. Dr Channing visited often to check up on Sherlock. Each time his vitals remained strong and when he did wake it was brief, but it was obvious his thoughts were coherent.

Dr Channing handed over to Dr Rayabov later in the day, and around 8pm Molly and John left Sherlock for a time while he slept. They headed back to 221b where Mary and Mrs Hudson were waiting for them. John had also text Mycroft and he text back straight away to say his parents had returned home for a while so he would come to 221b too.

When John and Molly walked into the house they could smell home cooking. Up in the flat Mrs Hudson had prepared a warm stew for them. The weather outside was still very cold, and dark, and it was just the kind of hearty meal they all needed.

"So, tell us about how Sherlock is" Mrs Hudson asked as she was dishing out the food

"He's woken a couple of times, and we've had conversations with him. They were brief conversations but definitely coherent enough to know that he's still there." said Molly with a smile

"And?" asked Mrs Hudson, her focus fixed upon Molly with interest

"Well, he remembers me. He smiled at me. He held my hand." Molly couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face. The warmth she felt spreading across her inside. Her Sherlock had remembered. He knew her. He still wanted her. She had been so afraid that he would forget. That the wonderful time they had had together would be for nothing. She had feared he would just return to being the 'same old Sherlock' and she would be the one watching him, trying to make him remember. Desperately trying to recapture what had been. But she didn't have to worry. He was still there. He was still very poorly but underneath it all he was still there, and she would wait. She would wait as long as it took to get him back to full health.

They sat at the table in 221b and started to tuck into the very welcome food. Just as Mrs Hudson went to sit down, the front doorbell rang. She headed down stairs to open it, and she was surprised to see Mycroft at the front door, and behind him Lestrade. She welcomed them both in, and ushered them up the stairs. She eyed them both up with interest. Something had changed between them both.

Once in the kitchen she asked them if they had eaten They hadn't so she soon dished them some food out too. Mycroft and Greg headed down to Mrs Hudson's flat to grab two extra chairs and soon the six of them were tightly sat around the table, enjoying the wonderful food Mrs Hudson had prepared for them.

John sat next to Mary and underneath the table he nudged her knee. He then flicked a glance across to Mycroft and Lestrade. Mary knew in an instant what John was referring to and she let out a little nod. The knee nudge then transferred from Mary to Mrs Hudson, who reacted in exactly the same way with a nod.

The conversation got round to Sherlock and some of the cases he had worked on. They all laughed at some of the antics he had got up to - the diving into rivers for clues, working through skips and rubbish dumps, spending hours not talking while visiting his mind palace. But he nearly always came up trumps and managed to find the one key thing that the others just could not see. And when he was beaten, or so it seemed, he'd suddenly stumble across something months later which was the key to solving the crime. His brilliant brain always saw that which others did not.

It was a lovely conversation. Mycroft was even joining in freely. The others couldn't help notice the glances Mycroft and Greg threw each other occasionally. They also couldn't help noticing how Mycroft opened up, so much for the better, when Greg was with him. It was like they were able to forget what Mycroft was usually like, and he was just one of them - up for a good laugh. There was a tinge of sadness that Sherlock was not with them. It was like a part of the group was missing.

When the meal was over, the six of them cleared up and then settled into the lounge with drinks. It was around 10pm when Molly stood up.

"I'm heading back to the hospital. I just want to go and see if he's OK." John also stood up to go with her "No, you stay here John. Stay with Mary tonight. I'll go back and see him on my own. If there is anything to report, I'll call you. I'll text you when I arrive anyway to let you know how he is."

John nodded and walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek "Give him our love. I'll be over first thing in the morning to see you both."

Molly hadn't said anything about staying the night with Sherlock. She didn't need to. They all just knew the reason she was heading back was so she could sleep in the chair next to him. She needed him as much as he needed her.

Molly hailed a cab from outside 221b. The night time traffic in London was always heavier than she expected but for some reason tonight it was particularly bad. She found herself impatient for the traffic to clear and to get back to Sherlock. The cab just could not move fast enough for her. She wondered whether she'd have been better just walking. Perhaps the journey might have moved a little quicker then.

The journey up to Sherlock's room seemed to take an age too. The lift stopped at literally every floor. She stopped for a moment to reflect. Why was she feeling like this? Why was the normally calm, reliable Molly Hooper so impatient. Then she realised. She was excited to see him. She wanted to get back to him, to be with him. She missed him. She didn't even stop to pick up her usual coffee on the way up. She just had to get there, to be with him, to be by his side.

Walking through the door of his room she felt her body relax. He was fast asleep in bed. She glanced over at the monitors. Everything was stable. The readings were was she had hoped. She sat herself down in the chair by the bed, ready for another night spent by his side. She quickly text John to let him know all was well before she took out her book and started to read.

She had read 20 or so pages when she became aware Sherlock was stirring. She looked over to him and he was slowly opening his eyes. He was lying on his side, and his eyes looked straight into hers. She smiled at him, and he immediately returned the gesture. Their eyes met for quite some time, until he very gently raised his left hand and tapped it on the bed. Molly knew what he meant. He wanted her to lie next to him.

"Sherlock, I can't" she said "You've got too many tubes and things."

"You can you know" came a voice from behind her. It was Dr Rayabov who had obviously sneaked in quietly and was doing Sherlock's obs. "You can't hurt him. In fact it'll probably be better for him if you do."

Molly didn't need telling again. She stood up out of her chair and her and Dr Rayabov helped Sherlock to move over slightly in the bed to give Molly room. Dr Rayabov raised the sides of the bed so that two of them could safely be together, and then Molly gently crawled into the bed along side Sherlock.

The feeling was indescribable. Her whole body felt light and alive as she felt his body warmth next to her. He looked into her eyes again and she wrapped her arms softly around him. It was the most natural thing in the world to kiss him. He was obviously weak as the kiss which came back from him was soft, but she could tell he was trying to put everything into it. Her heart wanted to jump for joy at what was happening. They pulled apart and after a fleeting glance, Sherlock closed is eyes again. He was exhausted but Molly was bursting with joy. She snuggled in next to him and allowed sleep to over take her. As she drifted off, she wondered if she would ever feel that content again. Happy in the knowledge that he was pulling through, happy in the understanding that remained unsaid between them both.

It was around 8am the next morning when John, Mary, Mrs Hudson, Mycroft and Lestrade all arrived at the hospital. They'd ended up drinking a bottle of whisky late on into the evening. Mycroft and Lestrade had stayed in Sherlock's room and Mary and John in John's old room. As Greg, Mycroft and Mary were all due into work, they'd caught an early taxi together to go and see Sherlock.

They didn't know whether they were surprised or not when they found Sherlock and Molly fast asleep in bed together, their arms and legs entwined and their heads pressed against each other.

Dr Channing had just returned onto shift and he popped his head in around the same time. He smiled "I think Sherlock might be ready to move out of ICU and on to High Dependancy don't you?"


	30. Chapter 30

The move to High Dependency passed without event. The next day or so passed easily, with Sherlock slowly gaining his strength back. He was still very weak and very tired but when awake his mind was as alert as it ever was.

He'd not been happy about the news his head had been shaved. But there was little he could do about it. It was still taking Molly a little while to get used to his new look but already very light stubble was growing over his head. She knew it wouldn't be long before it started to grow back properly.

Sherlock was still very dependent upon his glasses. An optician had been up to see him at Dr Channing's request to check his eyesight over. At that point, Sherlock was still not really well enough to be able to undertake a full eye test but he could co-operate enough for the optician to know there was no change to his sight. The optical damage was still there and would remain. What they were thankful for was the fact that it appeared no further damage had been done during the bleeds.

Sherlock had received many visitors, including some surprise ones. Molly was quite taken aback when Donovan and Anderson came in to see him. She hadn't expected them to visit, especially not Donovan of all people. But Sally seemed different. She had no sneering remark for him, no sarcastic comment about his glasses or his shaved head. There was what appeared to be genuine concern for him, almost as if deep down she was almost fond of him, respectful of his talent and grateful of the assistance he had given the force over the years. When they had first arrived, Sherlock was asleep. Sally asked Molly all about how he was, and when he awoke they had what could almost be called a civilised conversation. When they both left, Sherlock found himself laughing with Molly about how humble Sally had actually been and the fact that for once Anderson had appeared to be quite intelligent. It had quite taken them both by surprise. They had left with a promise of coming to visit again and Sherlock found himself interestd that, following their first visit, he actually quite looked forward to them returning.

Sherlock's parents had visited early on the morning of his third day in High Dependency, and as Mycroft a couple of days earlier, had caught Molly and Sherlock fast asleep in bed together, their arms and legs entwined into each other, Molly's head resting on Sherlock's chest. Mrs Holmes reaction had been to stop and watch them for a while, taking in the sight that she had almost concluded would never happen. Sherlock had actually found himself a partner, and one which she completely approved of. Molly was steady, kind and everything she would want for him. Once she had taken it is, she'd politely taken Mr Holmes back out of the room and down to the canteen to give Sherlock and Molly the chance to wake up.

One of the ward nurses had spotted what had gone on and forewarned Molly and Sherlock. When Mr and Mrs Holmes returned, Molly was sitting in her chair, holding Sherlock's hand.

As last time, Mrs Holmes hugged Molly and looked into her eyes. There was an unspoken agreement between them both. They had a common love for one man, and for his welfare. Molly made her excuses and gave the Holmes family some time together.

"Yon won't let her down will you Sherlock?" said his mother

"Of course not" he said. His strength was still missing and he was not able to respond much more fully, but the look in his eyes said it all. She was HIS Molly and she was there to stay.

It was on the sixth day in high dependency that Sherlock really began to feel better. The thoughts in his head were clearer. So much so that he was able to visit his mind palace for a time while Molly was back at her flat grabbing a shower and fetching clean clothes. The pain in his head, which had been ever present in some shape or form since Riyadh, had pretty much gone and he could feel his energy returning.

After a time spent filing away the events of the past few days, he found himself thinking of Molly. For the first time he was really able to assimilate the events of the past couple of weeks and what had happened between them. Their trip to Brighton, the time spent together, their night in 221b the day before he took ill... his mind dwelt on the feelings he had unearthed. Feelings that were totally alien to him on the one hand, having spent so long suppressing his emotions, but on the other hand which felt totally natural. He found that he was able to recall most elements, but there were some blanks. The one thing he did recall with great clarity was how it felt to be with Molly. The way it felt when they lay naked together, they way she kissed him, she tasted him when she had him in her moth, the way she felt when he entered her, the way she shook when she climaxed.

Sherlock was soon tired and drifted off to sleep. When Molly returned she sat and watched him for a while, taking in his body, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She took in a deep breath of her own and allowed her thoughts to wander. This sleeping man had become everything to her. And she had so very nearly lost him for a second time. She said a silent prayer of thanks that he appeared to be on the right side of his recovery. A noise behind her pulled her back into reality, and she took her coat off before taking up her usual space sitting beside him. She finished the book she was reading, and looked up to see Sherlock lying quietly watching her.

"Why didn't you tell me you were awake?"

"Because I was enjoying watching you." He tapped the space next to him "Shut the door and then come and join me"

Molly didn't need asking twice. She closed the door and walked over to the bed. She had to be careful when getting onto the bed. Sherlock had had his canular removed that afternoon so he was no longer on a drip, but his wrist and arm were bruised from all the blood tests and needles and he was still delicate from his surgery. She lay down next to him sharing his pillow, their heads touching, their eyes looking straight at one another.

"I had a nice afternoon with you" Sherlock said

"But I wasn't here Sherlock. I was at my flat getting showered, eating, having a rest and putting on some clean clothes."

"You were in my mind palace. That's close enough"

"Oh yes, and what was I doing in your mind palace."

"Nice things."

"What do you mean, nice things?"

"I was filing away our time together since we went to Brighton. There are, unfortunately, some blanks but I am in possession of most of the memories of what went on between us. I was recalling some of the more interesting times we had spent together, and recalling how much I had appreciated them."

"Appreciated them? Oh thanks Sherlock, is that how you summarise the time we spent together?"

"They were very enjoyable. I should... like to repeat them some time if that is agreeable with you?"

"Oh Sherlock, you are funny sometimes. Why don't you just come out and say you'd like to spend some more time with me when you get out of hospital. That is what you mean isn't it?"

"Yes"

"And I would like to spend some more time with you too please."

Sherlock stretched out an arm and Molly snuggled in to him, smiling from ear to ear. It was such a relief that he had not forgotten, that he was able to recall. Their eyes met and slowly their lips joined, in a kiss that was filled with love. It was not a passionate kiss, but one which was deep and meaningful, their mouths devouring each other.

One of the nurses popped her head through the door before retreating. She had a feeling that if she were to do Sherlock's observations right now his heart rate and blood pressure might be off the scale. 'Best to leave it for a bit' she thought as she closed the door. She turned the notice on the front of the door to 'Do not disturb' buying Sherlock and Molly the privacy they so desperately craved.

Very gently Sherlock's hand moved down to Molly's chest and he gently undid the buttons of her blouse before he laid his hand upon her breast. His eyes looked deeply into hers. "I can't undo your bra" he said "Please help me."

"I can't Sherlock. What if someone comes in?"

"They won't. The nurse just popped her head around the door and saw us kissing so she's closed it to and put the 'do not disturb' sign up on the front. We're totally fine until you go out and remove that sign."

Molly reached behind her and undid her bra. She slid her blouse and bra off and at the same time helped Sherlock out of his pyjama top. They pulled each other close, the warmth of their bare skin touching overwhelming their feelings. Their kisses intensified. Molly was particularly conscious of how easily she needed to treat Sherlock but he seemed desperate for her

"Take it easy, Sherlock. We have all the time in the world to do this."

"But I need you. I want you Molly."

"I know you do, but you have to be careful. I'm scared. Last time we did this you ended up critically ill."

"I'm on the right side of it now. Please Molly, I need you. I want you."

"OK, but let me take the lead. Let me take care of you."

And with that, he reached down and undid her trousers. She helped him to undo them and to remove her underwear, before gently slipping his pyjama bottoms off. She climbed gently back into bed with him, their naked bodies wrapped around each other like they never wanted to pull apart. They kissed and touched each other before Molly gently climbed on top of Sherlock, conscious of not hurting him but desperate for him to be inside her.

She reached into her trouser pocket and pulled out a condom. He looked at her inquisitively.

"I wanted to be prepared. I had a feeling once you were feeling better this might happen." She quickly ripped it open and gently slid it over Sherlock. She was so desperate for him as she gently lowered herself down onto him, the feeling of him inside her causing her to take a sharp intake of breath.

She looked down at Sherlock who was smiling at her, having the same reaction. His breath quickening and his pupils dilating as she very gently rocked onto him

"Are you OK?" she asked him, concerned that it was too much for him

"Never better" he smiled back at her.

This was the true definition of making love. They took it extremely gently and carefully with Molly leading the way. She kept checking on Sherlock and making sure he was OK but he just reassured her that he would tell her if he wasn't. Their gentle rocking and love making consuming their entire beings. It was a long, slow build up where they did not take their eyes off each other for one moment.

It was Molly who felt the main build up first, her eyes widening as she felt her body reach its climax. Sherlock watched her with awe as she began to shake. He could feel her climax against him and it in turn tipped him over the edge. It was the most wonderful feeling, and he heard himself groan and felt his body flinch as he filled Molly.

Molly gently eased herself off him, and cleaned him up before settling back into bed next to him. They stayed naked as he wrapped his arms around her and then was asleep in seconds. She lay listening to his heart beating, the warmth of his body enveloping her, as she too drifted off into a welcome sleep.


	31. Chapter 31

They hadn't expected to be woken up. They especially hadn't expected to be woken up by Lestrade.

"I'll come back" he quickly muttered, exiting as fast as possible.

Molly and Sherlock looked at each other and laughed. They both knew that within 2 minutes everyone would know. John, Mary, Mrs Hudson, Mycroft... and therefore Sherlock's parents.

"Well, at least we don't have to tell them" said Molly with a smile. "And they'll all know you are feeling much better too." She lent in and kissed him. "We'd better get dressed. Lestrade will be back in a bit."

She climbed out of bed and Sherlock watched her get dressed, with a pout on his face. "I thought it said 'Do not disturb' on the door" he said. Molly popped her head out.

"It does. Looks like Lestrade took that to mean 'come in'" she said grinning. "Serves him right then"

There was a bleep from Sherlock's phone. He picked it up, put his glasses on, and read it.

_ I hear you are feeling better this morning. JW_

He showed it to Molly before replying.

_ Yes thank you, I am. Much. SH_

_ Good. Mary says hi to Molly. JW_

_ Molly says hi back to Mary. SH_

Molly and Sherlock laughed. Of course Sherlock would leave it there. No details for John. He'd make John or Mary have to ask the awkward question of what went on. Molly came over to Sherlock and gently helped him get dressed. His strength was returning day by day but he still got very tired very quickly.

Molly opened the door to their room and slipped the do not disturb sign off. She waved to the nurse who was watching her, and nodded when she asked if they'd like a cup of tea.

The nurse delivered them a pot of tea and some bacon sandwiches and they sat having breakfast. Sherlock sat up in bed and Molly perched herself on the side of the bed next to him. They heard a polite cough at the door. It was Lestrade

"Good morning Greg" said Molly "Want a cup of tea?"

"No, I'm fine thank you. I, erm, I erm"

"Just come out with it. You entered a 'do not disturb' sign and found us in bed together. There you go, I've said it. Now lets move on." said Sherlock, his eyes flicking to Molly, a grin spreading across both their faces.

"Nicely put, Sherlock" said Lestrade "I was just popping by to see how you were"

"And you have something you want me to look at" said Sherlock

"How did you know? No, scrap that, of course you know. You're Sherlock and even though you had major surgery only a few days ago of course you're going to know what I need."

"Indeed Inspector. Now hand it over."

Lestrade put his hand inside his pocket and pulled out a monocle. "This was found on a dead body yesterday and we've been unable to identify him. We wondered what you might make of it."

Sherlock took it out of Lestrade's hands and examined it carefully. Lestrade and Molly watched him with interest as his eyes flicked around it and he turned it gently in his long fingers. He looked at it for a couple of minutes before handing it back to Lestrade.

"Well?"

"The victim is in his early 60's, white caucasian. I'd say he was overweight with a limp in his left leg as a result of a war wound, almost certainly Falklands conflict. He served on the SS Canberra which was stationed at Port Stanley. He's a seafaring man, who has spent most of his working life in the navy, but as a naval dentist. He is married with 4 grown up children, widowed at the age of 53. His death was as a result of a car accident about 6 days ago, leaving him with a ruptured spleen which he did not get treated. He lives in Hampstead Heath, in a second floor flat. His oldest child is no longer with us, and the other three children are all living abroad, one in Hong Kong and the other two in Australia. This was given to him by his late wife on his 50th birthday, not long after she was diagnosed with lung cancer. He has not touched a cigarette since that day. I think that should be enough to help you identify your victim."

Lestrade had been texting all the way through this, and Sherlock heard a bleep as he sent the text. "And you got this all from a monocle? How on earth? No, scrap that, of course you got that from his monocle. And what shoe size was he out of interest?"

"9"

Lestrade sent another text, and Molly knew it was to see if Sherlock was right about that fact too.

"Thank you Sherlock. Brilliant as always. Good to see that your illness hasn't taken away any of that amazing brain power. Now rest up and take care of him Molly. I'll see you both soon" and with that he turned and left.

"Come in Dr Channing" said Sherlock suddenly

"Sorry, I was coming to see you and I couldn't help but overhear what you were saying to Lestrade. I had heard about your legendary observational skills and it was amazing to see them in action. I presume by all of that you are feeling much better?"

"Thank you, yes. Headache has completely cleared this morning. First time in several months I've not had some form of dull ache."

"And I hear you had company over night?" Dr Channing flicked a smile at Molly. "I think all in all we can be pleased with your progress. I'm just going to do your obs and check you over. If they're looking OK, I've made arrangements, we're moving you onto the normal ward. We'll keep you in a private room but I see no reason for you to remain in high dependency any more. If you carry on like this we'll have you home within the next week or so. You'll need some good R&R, but I'm sure that Miss Hooper here can make some good plans for you regarding that."

With that Dr Channing checked Sherlock over. All his obs were looking good, his blood pressure was within the normal limits, temperature and heart rate good, and his scar was healing well. It was much to Molly's delight that Sherlock's hair was starting to grow back. OK, so it was only stubble at the moment but none the less his dark hair was in evidence.

"All looking good, Sherlock. We'll arrange for the move to be made later on today."

The move to his new room was straightforward but tiring and within minutes of arrival he was fast asleep.

Molly had text John and Mary to let them know of the move and they had promised to be in later to visit. Molly settled herself in the chair, and started to carry on reading her book. Sherlock was out for the count and would probably be asleep for the next couple of hours at least.

It was a little time later that she heard a gentle knock at the door It was Lestrade.

"Just wanted to pop in and thank Sherlock for his help. He was spot on right you know, down to the final detail. And yes, he did even wear size 9 shoes. How on earth does he do it, Molly? It's like he's got xray vision."

Molly laughed. She and Lestrade looked over at Sherlock fast asleep with his back to them.

"I'm really glad he's come through this you know, Molly. The thought of losing him again after... well, you know. And I'm really glad you two are together. You two work you know. " He paused "I'm sorry I walked in on you both this morning. It was wrong of me to barge in on an intimate moment. I just. Well, I just never thought of Sherlock as being intimate. He always seemed so distant, so super human. But now, well he's just as human as the rest of us."

Molly nodded "He's just needed help bringing it out. I can't understand it. His parents are so normal. Well, you'd know that. Erm, how are things with Mycroft?"

Lestrade laughed "Really good. Oh my goodness Molly, they're really good. I'd never in a million years have seen me with Mycroft Holmes. The great and elusive Mycroft. But underneath it, just as you're finding with Sherlock, behind the facade, there is a really nice guy in there. It's going really well. We're working out really well. And I didn't even know I was gay. How crazy is that?"

"I think it's wonderful. It took me by surprise at first, but then the more I see you two together, the more it works. You're good for each other. Like Sherlock and I are good for each other. I still can't believe it, Greg. After all those years."

Lestrade and Molly laughed. They smiled "We've each bagged ourselves a Holmes brother, Molly. I have a feeling we're going to be spending time in each others company for many years to come you know."

"Are you and Mycroft really that serious? I mean it does appear from the outside that you are, but it's none of our business really."

"Really serious, Molly. It's happened so very quickly. I can't quite believe it, but I just know. Something has just clicked between us. I'm completely besotted. I can't stop thinking about him. We text each other all the time. Is that silly?"

"It's brilliant. And I get it totally. Sherlock and I just can't bear to be out of each other's company. That's why I stayed over last night. We just wanted to sleep holding each other. It's not silly at all Greg, it's love."


	32. Chapter 32

Sherlock's recovery continued to progress well and during the following week, with regular visits from Molly, Mary, John, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade and Mycroft (who always seemed to visit together much to Sherlock's amusement), his strength was returning.

Molly was glad to see him slowly returning to full health. She had been able to return back to work and to fit in her shifts around his visits. She regularly stayed overnight with him in his hospital bed, the nurses now so used to her arriving at around 10pm that they often had a cup of tea and a sandwich waiting for her when she got there. She'd head home after her shift, grab her clean clothes for the next day, put the ones she'd worn the day before in the wash and grab a quick shower. She'd then feed Toby and spend time with him before grabbing a cab and heading to the hospital.

More often than not Sherlock was sleeping when she arrived. She'd put her bag in his room and gently nudge him to show him she was there. Then while he slowly awoke she'd have a chat with the hospital team. She didn't like to wake him too quickly following how poorly he'd been.

Every day he grew stronger. Every day his body was ready for a little more, and he began to walk around the hospital building. At first just small steps, to the end of the corridor and back, slowly building to a trip to the canteen to get a coffee. Molly knew that he was almost mended when on a Saturday 10 days after he had been moved out of ICU, he asked for his coat and shoes as he wanted to take a short walk in the hospital garden. It was a roof garden, up on the top of the building.

Tentatively Sherlock took his first steps outside and breathed in the fresh air. There were definite signs of spring and Sherlock lapped them up with eagerness. He had missed the autumn, unable to see the leaves clearly. This time, his glasses made all the difference. He was able to see the fresh shoots budding on the trees, the signs of winter slowly fading.

Sherlock held Molly's hand tightly as they walked slowly and tentatively, taking time to rest after every few steps. Sherlock's strength was returning but he was still a little unsure on his feet. Close by, Molly spotted a bench and guided Sherlock to it. They sat down hand in hand and took in the scene around them. The view over London from the roof garden was beautiful and then bench was positioned for the best view possible. With no leaves on the trees up there it was possible to see for quite some way. Sherlock took his time to think before telling Molly the names of all the buildings and streets they could see. When he had finished speaking he just sat in silence, his eyes flicking around him, taking in all that he could. Not for the first time Molly looked at Sherlock in total awe. This absolutely brilliant man was hers. He was growing stronger every day, a shadow of himself at the moment but he was in there. He would return. She felt his arm go around her back and pull her closer in.

When he spoke again it was simply to say "Thank you Molly Hooper for all you have done for me."

"You are very welcome, Sherlock. I didn't do much really."

"You did more than you can imagine. You saved me. And for that I am grateful."

Molly turned to look at Sherlock, his eyes already looking at her. Their lips met and as they kissed they held each other tightly.

It was several days later that Dr Channing came in to see Sherlock and Molly. It was to advise them that he was delighted with Sherlock's progress and that release from hospital was imminent, but he didn't want Sherlock returning to 221b. He was worried that there was just too much stimulation there and that there would be a strong temptation to return to work too soon. His preference would be for some kind of holiday where Sherlock were able to recuperate in his own time, in surroundings which would allow for rest and relaxation. Molly sprung to work immediately. She knew just the place.

It was around 7pm that evening that Molly walked back into Sherlock's room with a smile on her face. "It's all fixed."

"What is, Molly?"

"You're coming to my parents cottage in the Cotswolds. They've got a holiday let there. It will be perfect for you to unwind, and it's free for the next couple of weeks so there's no rush. Mary and John can come and join us for a few days too. It will do you the power of good."

Sherlock sighed. He could think of nothing worse than spending 2 weeks away from London. Yes, the idea of spending time with Molly was extremely pleasing, and it would be fun to have John and Mary around for a bit but 2 weeks.

"What on earth will we do for 2 weeks, Molly? I'm going crazy here with nothing to do and at least I'm in London."

"Oh don't worry, I'm sure we will find plenty to do" said Molly with a grin on her face. "There's lots of country walks and a local pub."

Sherlock sighed. These were not things which filled him with excitement, but Molly's eyes were shining with the thought of it, and that alone was enough to make him smile. He pulled her down to sit beside him and put his arm around her.

If you are looking forward to it, then so am I, Molly Hooper."


	33. Chapter 33

was a beautiful spring day. The sun was out, the trees were beginning to bud leaves and farmers were out in the fields. The cottage was set in a small village, each house made out of traditional Cotswold stone. There were 25 houses in total in the village, a shop, a pub and a church.

The thatched roof was thick as it had just been replaced and plants and wisteria climbed around the front door. There was a small wall all around, and a wooden gate leading up a path to a bright red painted front door. The windows were made of diamond shaped leaded lights and the name plaque over the door cheerfully informed those walking by that its name was 'Holly Cottage'.

To those on the outside it looked beautiful. A wonderful Cotswold holiday cottage, ready for the occupants to partake of a couple of weeks of rest, relaxation and recover.

To Molly it was idyllic, one of her favourite places, and her stomach did a little jump of excitement as she turned into the village, 2 minutes from the house.

To Sherlock, every deduction going on in his head on the journey on the way had led him to conclude this was going to be his worst nightmare. Yes, he was about to spend some real time with Molly and to help his recovery, but it looked dull. So very boring. He was going to be bored. He was feeling much better, and his brain was pretty much back to full power. He wasn't in the mood for sitting around for 2 weeks. He wanted to get back to work, to find cases to work on and to feel the buzz. 2 weeks of rest and relaxation was not his idea of fun. He was not in a good mood.

"C'mon, you'll be amazed how much you'll like it when you get going" said Molly as they drove along. Sherlock just grunted. He found himself feeling a little uncomfortable and shifted his glasses on his nose nervously. He caught his reflection in the mirror. His hair was starting to grow even more. In the weeks that had passed since his surgery, his stubble had definitely grown. There was the merest hint of a curl returning. He couldn't wait for it to grow back properly and to cover the nasty looking scar which the surgery had left him.

As they pulled onto the drive, however, Sherlock felt a wave of familiarity. Asif he suddenly felt at home. Yes, he still wanted the excitement of the work but he could also feel his body relax - a strange sensation for someone who didn't normally do holidays.

Molly opened her door, got out, opened the boot and quickly moved all the cases into the cottage. She went back to Sherlock who was still sitting in the car. She held her hand out to him. "Penny for your thoughts."

"I was just thinking how much it reminds me of my parents house. The house I grew up in had a really similar feel to it."

"You see, I told you that you would love it once you were here." She held his hand and led him into the cottage. "Now, you know what the doctors orders were. As soon as we arrive, you've got to go and rest."

"I'm fine Molly, honestly."

"Doctors orders, Sherlock" said Molly forcefully, leading him down a hallway and into one of the bedrooms. She pulled the curtains closed and Sherlock sat down on the bed. He did feel tired and his head ached a little. He hated feeling tired. He was used to being able to work for days at a go without any rest. But at the moment it was so different. He needed sleep and alot of it. He took his shoes off and lay down.

He tapped the bed beside him but Molly shook her head. "I can't join you. I've got to unpack and it's 4pm so I'll get some food on for when you wake up." She lent over and kissed his forehead before heading out of the room.

Sherlock lay looking at the ceiling for a while. It was a beamed ceiling but before long he felt his eyes going heavy. He took his glasses off and placed them on the bedside table before rolling over and allowing sleep to overtake him.

A few minutes later Molly popped her head in to check on him, to find him fast asleep, snoring gently.

The smell of steak and kidney pie wafted through the cottage, and a couple of hours of sleep later Sherlock found himself waking to his favourite aroma. He sat up slowly, put his glasses on and found his slippers next to the bed. He put them on, and slowly got up, walking back through the cottage and into the kitchen.

"Hello sleepy head" said Molly with a smile "I was going to wake you in a few minutes anyway. Dinner is ready" She put two plates down on the table and Sherlock had to smile. She had prepared his favourite dinner. He never ate much, except for when someone served him this. And boy did he eat, like he'd never seen food before.

"Wow, you were hungry" Molly laughed as he sat back from a completely clear table. "John told me you loved Steak and Kidney but I hadn't realised just how much."

"I suspected it was John who told you. What else has he given away?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out". Molly tapped the end of Sherlock's nose affectionately as she stood up, picking up both plates and taking them over to the washing up bowl. "John and Mary are joining us in a couple of days anyway. Why don't you go and sit down in the lounge in front of the fire. I'll clear up. I've left a couple of left things on the table I believe you will enjoy."

Sherlock stood up and walked through to the lounge. There on the table was his pride and joy. Molly had brought his violin. As he was fresh out of hospital ,he had not had chance to play it since he had taken ill. He gently lifted it up and plucked at each string to check it was in tune. It wasn't so he set about lovingly tuning it.

Molly was listening from the kitchen as he plucked each string. She could head him slowly tuning it, amazed that he had perfect pitch and was able to tune it from ear. But of course Sherlock Holmes would have perfect pitch. He was Sherlock Holmes after all. She laughed to herself as she decided that if he'd only let go, he could probably sing brilliantly too.

Once tuned, Sherlock lifted the violin and placed it gently under his chin, tightened his bow and then drew it over the strings. The cottage was filled with beautiful music. He worked quickly and played through a series of music he knew Molly would like while she completed the chores in the kitchen.

He played for around 20 minutes before placing his violin back in its case. As he folded the lid over, he spotted something else - a drawing pad and pencils. It had been years since he had been given a drawing pad. In fact, he had been 12 and it was a family party. He was bored and a hand leaned over his shoulder and gave them to him. He looked up to see his mum smiling at him. "Thought you might find use for these" she'd said as she moved back to the family party. And it was one of his favourite ever gifts. He had never admitted to anyone that he could draw, so how did Molly know?

"Your Mum told me" said a voice from the kitchen "When you were in hospital. She told me the story about you and the drawing pad and how you'd filled the whole book with pictures and kept it hidden under your bed. I thought you might like it while you're recovering. I know you'll get bored just sitting around so I thought maybe tomorrow we could go out for a walk, and I could read a book and you could do some drawing."

"I don't draw, Molly."

"Whatever, Sherlock" said Molly with a laugh "Then you can sit next to me and not draw, and be bored while I read because that's my plan for us both for tomorrow." She sat down on the sofa next to him and lent in to him. He lifted his arm up and wrapped it around her as they both lent down and their lips met.


	34. Chapter 34

The next morning dawned bright if a little misty. Molly was the first to wake and she gently eased herself out of bed so as not to wake Sherlock who was wrapped up in the duvet almost up to his ears. She smiled as she looked over to his sleeping form, remembering the night before. They had cuddled and kissed on the sofa for quite some time before Sherlock had gone sleepy and they had taken themselves off to bed. She knew that his recovery was still far from complete due to the amount that he was sleeping. Sherlock would have none of it. As far as he was concerned (or would admit at least) he was find a ready to go back to work as soon as possible.

She headed into the kitchen to make two cups of tea before taking them back to bed. Sherlock was stirring and as Molly sat back on the bed, his arm reached up to her right breast.

"Good morning Sherlock, I was wonderi..." was all that she could get out before his lips hit hers with a good morning kiss. She wrapped her arms around him as their kiss deepened and his hand moved up to pull through her hair.

Sherlock's lips moved downwards to Molly's neck causing her to take a sharp intake of breath. His hands moving from her hair, down to her pyjama top as he started to undo the buttons to expose her naked chest. He pulled his lips away from her neck to look at her naked chest which always made him smile. His lips moving to her left nipple as his hands worked their way under the elastic of her pyjama bottoms. She obediently lifted her hips to allow him to slide them off as her hands worked their way quickly down his pyjama bottoms. Their naked chests touching and the warmth permeating through their bodies.

Sherlock's lips moved back up to Molly's as she then too eased her hands underneath the elastic of his pyjamas, easing them down over his bottom, and then pushing them right down and off him with her feet.

They lay naked together kissing passionately, Molly's legs wrapped around Sherlock's body, his erect penis sitting comfortably between her legs. They moved slowly together as they kissed.

Molly reached over to the bedside cabinet and pulled out a little silver foil packet.

"Prepared I see, Miss Hooper" said Sherlock as she pushed him off her, opened the packet and gently rolled the condom onto him.

"Always prepared for every eventuality" said Molly as she pulled him back on top of her, their kiss resuming. Sherlock reached down and gently eased himself inside Molly, both of them taking a deep breath as he entered, he feeling her warmth and tightness, she feeling him solid and strong. They had made love several times in the hospital, but today he was firm and full, his recovery spreading across his whole body.

Their moves were as one, slowly building up to a crescendo which saw them both tense and release within seconds of each other, before the collapsed into a heap, holding each other tightly and smiling. Molly laughed.

"Why are you laughing, Molly?" asked Sherlock sharply "What did I do wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing at all, Sherlock. I was just laughing to myself that I could get seriously used to waking up like this. That was just lovely. Thank you."

"So could I".

After a shower together followed by a breakfast of toast, eggs, bacon and beans they found themselves pulling on warm coats and walking shoes, ready to head out into the fields around. Molly packed a small bag with a flask of tea, her reading book and the drawing book and pencils she had given to Sherlock the day before.

The village was quiet, and Sherlock took in everything around him as they walked hand in hand. Molly watched him with interest not speaking. His eyes darted around, obviously logging everything that he saw, his brain sharp and as alive and crisp as it had ever been. He pointed out things to her as they walked.

"That car has recently been in an undeclared accident because its owner has chosen not to clean it to try and hide the damage that has been done"; "That old barn used to house a family of asylum seekers because the weather vane is on the wrong way round". Molly squeezed his hand tighter as he spoke.

They rounded a corner and found a small park with a bench on. Molly sat down and took out the flask, pouring two cups of tea. She then pulled her book and Sherlock's pad out before settling down to read.

For a while Sherlock looked around, taking everything in and drinking his tea, but it didn't take him long to get bored and to pick up the pad. He flicked through the blank pages before turning back to the first page and folding the pad in two. Pencil in hand he thoughtlessly rolled it between his fingers before starting to draw. He had chosen to draw the view in front of them. It showed a path down one side of the park, with some trees to the side and a small hedge in front of the village church.

Molly watched him start to draw, his pencil moving over the paper with fluid ease, but quickly drew her eyes away knowing that if she watched him for too much longer, he would stop. She lost herself in her book, the story pulling her deeper in, and it was only when Sherlock stood up that she was pulled away from her reading. She flicked a glance down to see what he had drawn.

"Sherlock, that is brilliant" she said with joyful excitement as she picked up the pad. He had drawn so quickly and so accurately. "Why on earth don't you draw more often? You are fantastic at this."

Sherlock simply nodded his head, and held his hand out to Molly. She knew that was a sign that he wanted to go back.

"You OK?" she asked looking into his eyes

"Bit of a headache, that's all."

"Lets get you home."

Sherlock was asleep pretty soon after they returned back to the cottage, and Molly busied herself preparing for the evening meal when her mobile went off with a text alert.

_On the way down to see you a bit earlier than planned. Be with you in an hour. Bringing Lestrade with us. He's got a case he urgently needs Sherlock's help with. Hope that's OK? J & M_

Molly text John straight back

_That's fine. I'll get an extra bed made up for Lestrade. Look forward to seeing you and Mary. Safe journey. MH x_

Molly debated on waking Sherlock and letting him know but decided against it. If Lestrade needed him, it meant work, and that meant no sleep so she decided to leave him be.

Sherlock was still sleeping when John's car pulled up onto the drive and Molly went out to welcome them all with a hug. They unloaded the car and headed into the kitchen for a cup of tea. Molly had made a cake and they were busy eating when Sherlock walked in to join them looking refreshed.

After Mary had hugged him, and he had shaken hands with John he turned straight to Lestrade.

"So what has happened? What case have you brought me to solve?"

Thank you so much for taking the time to read Molly and Sherlock's story. There's lots more to come! If you are enjoying it or have any feedback please do leave me a review. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks. x


	35. Chapter 35

Lestrade smiled. Of course Sherlock would have worked out why he was there. Why else would John and Mary have arrived a day early, and why on earth would he be joining them if it wasn't for a case. Lestrade had hoped to have a little time socialising before getting to work, but he could see by the hunger in Sherlock's eyes that he was keen to get his brain working. Molly had said so much as they were having their tea and cake.

Lestrade motioned Sherlock to sit down next to him, which he did. He took a deep breath and started.

"It was only when John and Mary mentioned that you were staying in Blockley that it seemed sensible to come and join you all. Blockley has been a village on our radar for quite some time. It would appear that there seems to be some form of link to smuggling, in particular forgery of money. We have had quite a few officers come in and spend time in the village, all under the guise of looking for work but this is actually the only place in the whole village which is a holiday cottage. The rest of the houses are fully occupied and there are no rooms for staying in at the pub. This means it's been very hard for our team to come and spend any real time here.

"There are several points which we have been able to note. Namely that there is an intermittent flashing light coming from the bell tower of the church. It's not a regular light, and the flashing appears to be some form of code. However, it's not morse. It seems to be much simpler than that, but we can't work it out. The town itself remains tight lipped and we have been unable to get anything out of anyone. So when I heard that the one cottage which is regularly unoccupied actually belonged to Molly's parents and the great Sherlock Holmes was staying here, I thought I'd come and pose the problem to you."

Sherlock sat listening quietly. "What else have you got?"

"Not alot more to be honest. It's just one of those cases which has kept cropping up. No specifics or particulars to be going on with and detail is sadly sparce and lacking. But there is something going on in this seemingly sleepy village, I can tell you. What we do know, however, is that there is a great deal of wealth in this village, yet noone appears to have a job or to work. The only people who seem to do something are the pub landlord, and the gentleman who runs the village shop as they have shop premises. Even the vicar at the church only runs the odd service, all of which are exceeding well attended by everyone in the church and then following they all go into a meeting room for their 'village council briefing'. Very strange that every single member of the congregation would find themselves on the council, every single meeting."

Sherlock responded simply with a nod. He sat in silence for a while, his eyes closed and his hands steepled under his chin. A good 5 minutes passed before he made his excuses, kissed Molly lightly on the cheek and headed out.

"Want me to join you, Sherlock?" asked John getting ready to stand

"No, you need to stay here, John. I am going out on my own with my drawing pad. On my own, sitting drawing and observing, I will not raise suspicion. As Molly has recently found out, I am quite a good artist and so anyone leaning over my shoulder will simply see a man recovering from brain surgery who is partaking of a pass time which he enjoys. You all of course know I will be doing exactly that but it is not the drawing but the observing that I enjoy." and with that he was out of the door and gone.

The four of them watched him go. "He is actually quite an amazing artist" Molly chirped in before anyone had a chance to say anything.

"How on earth did you find that out?" asked John. "I lived with him for ages and never knew that."

"His mum told me when we were in the hospital. She told me a tale of when he was given a drawing pad as a child and he filled it full of the most incredible drawings. So I bought him a drawing pad and took him out this morning. I was astounded. He is brilliant."

They all laughed. Of course Sherlock was brilliant. He was brilliant at everything he turned his mind to. A mind which day by day was getting stronger and in those few previous minutes they had been given a glimpse of the old Sherlock, the fire ignited in his eyes at the thought of getting back to a case.

"So, this case" John said to Lestrade "Sounds an interesting one."

"Yes, we just can't quite get to grips on it as I said. But I have a feeling that Sherlock might just get it wrapped up. And anyway, it gave me an excellent excuse to get out of London and to come and spend some time with all of you."

"If you don't mind me asking, how's things with Mycroft?" Mary piped up after a moment.

"Erm, they're going very well, thanks" said Lestrade coyly. "Well, in fact they are going really well. I think i totally underestimated him and misjudged him. He's actually a really deep character. He cares enormously for Sherlock, and well, yes, thing are going rather well. I find myself more and more drawn to him and we seem to be spending more and more time together. Again, part of my reason for wanting to come away was to give myself a break. You know, to see if the heart really does grow fonder and all that."

Mary almost lept up out of her seat and ran over to hug Lestrade who was rather taken aback, before returning the hug back again.

It became apparent after a while that Sherlock was not planning on returning any time soon, so they worked together to prepare an evening meal of Jacket potatoes, baked beans and cheese, a staple favourite of them all. Once they had eaten they sat in the lounge and played cards, chatting in front of the roaring fire that was keeping the chill at bay. Although it was spring time the evenings were still a little chilly. Molly had already popped into the bedroom and seen that Sherlock had taken his jumper, warmest scarf and his coat with him, so she was satisfied that he was sensible enough to keep himself wrapped up and well cared for, but that she could see he intended to stay out for quite some time.

It was around 11pm when Mary, John and Lestrade made their excuses and headed to bed. Molly was just clearing up in the kitchen and about to do the same when the front door unlocked. It was Sherlock looking bright eyed and excited.

"Good evening?" Molly enquired

"The best. I have much work still to do but I have gathered together a good deal of information which I need. Your plan of giving me the cover of being an artist was an excellent one, Molly. Allowed me to roam freely around the village arousing no suspicion what so ever. I had several people come and chat to me about my drawings and it's amazing how open they become when you get them in conversation about something they like or enjoy. Very easy to steer the topic around to something you want to know. "

Molly laughed. Yes, Sherlock was back. The excitement in his voice and the matter of fact way that he spoke all pointed to the return of his brilliant, genius mind. She watched as he pulled out his laptop and note book and started to type furiously, searching the internet for clues.

All the time he was speaking she was boiling the kettle and making him a coffee - black with two sugars of course. She sat it down on the table next to him. She gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Don't stay up too late will you."

But no response came. He was deep into the realms of his mind palace, searching out information, trying to piece together the puzzle that Lestrade had given him, acting like a small child at Christmas, excited at being given something new and fresh to turn his attention and focus to.


	36. Chapter 36

It was around 9am before anyone surfaced the next morning. John was the first up and he found Sherlock still sitting at the table in the kitchen, his hands under his chin meaning he was still deep in his mind palace. John knew better than to disturb him so he made a quick cup of tea and took himself off to sit in the lounge with the newspaper which had been delivered.

Slowly the others awoke and headed into the kitchen to find Sherlock in the same position. Under John's guidance they all did as John did and silently left Sherlock to it.

It was an hour or so later that Sherlock headed into the lounge. He looked dreadful. Exhausted and squinting, his glasses in his hand.

"Are you OK?" said John immediately sensing that all was not OK?

Sherlock shook his head, and turned and walked to the bedroom. Molly and John followed swiftly behind. Sherlock simply walked up to the bed, and fell straight on it. He was asleep before his head had even hit the pillow. John and Molly gently removed Sherlock's shoes and eased the bed covers over him.

"I think he's over done it." said Molly in a whisper.

"I have never known him to fall asleep during a case. Ever" said John "He is still very much recovering. Leave him be for a bit and we can come back and check on him."

With that they both tiptoed out of the room.

They were met by two concerned faces as they walked back into the Lounge

"He's absolutely spark out. Asleep before his head had even hit the pillow. In all the years I've worked with him I've never known him fall asleep during a case. Even the ones which last 4 or 5 days. He's been the one up and awake throughout. I've been the one sleeping while standing up. He's been known to be comatose for almost 2 days solid after the heaviest of cases but never sleeping during. I think that there's still quite some way to go on his recovery. But he'll be fine. A good sleep and he'll be right as rain."

"What shall we do?" asked Mary

"Best thing we can do is to give him some peace and quiet. Shall we head out for a walk for a couple of hours. He can sleep then" suggested John.

Bags were quickly packed, packed lunches made and within half an hour they were ready to head out for they day. Mary and Lestrade had identified a public footpath on the map and they were working to plan the route. Molly and John popped their head in on Sherlock who was sleeping soundly.

Molly left him a note in the kitchen.

'We've gone for a walk, taking a packed lunch. We've left you some in the fridge. Don't overdo it. See you later, Molly x'

Boots were pulled on, and the four of them silently left the cottage, leaving Sherlock to rest without disturbance.

Sherlock stirred around 2pm. He was feeling much refreshed and his mind was already whirring on the case at hand. He was up, showered, and dressed within 15 minutes and headed into the kitchen where he found Molly's note. He quickly scribbled one back

'Heading out. 2.20pm. SH'

He found the sandwich and drink Molly had left for him in the fridge, drank all, ate half his sandwich and put the other half in a bag for later, slipping it into his pocket along side his drawing pad and pencils. By 2.20 he was out of the house ready to resume his investigations.

Molly, Lestrade, John and Mary returned back to the cottage just after 3pm to find Sherlock's note and the food gone out of the fridge.

"Well at least we know he's eaten" said Mary.

"And he only left half an hour or so ago so he's had a good 4 hours of rest. He'll be fine now." said John as they flicked the kettle on for a cup of tea.

"Interesting village this" mused Lestrade as he took his coat off "Several significant routes in and out which is quite unusual for a village like this. Usually there's only one road in and out. Would tie in with our theory of some form of smuggling going on. It's also really weird. Did any of you feel like the curtains were twitching as we were walking?"

"Oh my goodness, I'm so glad it's not just me" Molly exclaimed. " I swear I felt like eyes were watching me. It was really uncomfortable. Like we weren't welcome. I've never felt like that here before. Mind you my parents and I haven't really used the cottage much over the last 6 months or so."

"That would kind of tie in again. The reports we've been getting started about 5 months ago, and are regularly appearing now."

The four of them were tired after their walk and the fresh air, so the settled into the lounge to relax with books and the radio on. Lestrade and John both dozed off and Mary and Molly found themselves engrossed in a jigsaw. They were disturbed by a voice behind them/

"You've got that piece wrong" said a deep voice from behind them, a finger pointing over at one specific piece. Sherlock smiled as they both jumped up in shock.

"We didn't hear you return"

"I have perfected the art of being silent when I need to. Shall we go for some dinner at the pub?"

"You want to go for dinner in a pub? That's not like you" came a yawning response from a bleary eyed John stretching out on the sofa.

"I need to do some investigating and need a reason to go back in there. I think they're growing a little suspicious of me and going for a group dinner will be the cover I need." With that he was opening the front door and beckoning them all out.

Molly grabbed a look at her watch. It was 6pm and already quite gloomy outside. It would be dark within half an hour. The four of them rushed around to grab coats and shoes, Lestrade confused having been woken up by a prod from Mary. Within minutes they were walking down the lane into the village.

"Sherlock, why is our car in the pub car park?" asked John "And how on earth did you get the keys? Oh no, scrub that, they were in my coat pocket last night. You stole them didn't you?"

"We may need to make a quick get away." said Sherlock quietly as he opened the pub door.

Inside the pub were several locals who all looked up from their pints as the five strangers entered. Sherlock walked up to a table by the window and beckoned the others to join him. He tapped four times on the table before pausing and then tapping twice more. John nodded at Sherlock.

"Code?" Molly whispered at John

"Yes. Appears that we need to be cautious. And it would also seem that this is the table we are to sit at."

With the three other seated and warned to keep the conversation to a friendly banter about holidays, families and work in general, Sherlock and john went and ordered food at the bar. Sherlock's medication prevented him from drinking and John also knew that Sherlock never partook of alcohol when working. The others had a mixture of glasses of wine and some of the local real ale beer.

Sherlock sat down to join them, merrily sparking up a conversation about the things he had sat and drawn during the day. It was John who understood totally what Sherlock was telling him. The things he had drawn during the day were the key features of the village they needed to be aware of. Lestrade however had not cottoned on at all.

"Well, why are you telling us about all of this if you're not going to show us the drawings, Sherlock."

John's foot shot out and kicked Lestade firmly under the table. Lestrade's eyes met John's with a look of inquisition, before the look John gave him back made him realise that perhaps it's wasn't the wisest of comments. John could see Sherlock immediately go into full observation mode. A throw away comment like this could so easily give them away. Why indeed would Sherlock not show his closest friends his drawings? It was enough to make someone thing something else underlying was going on.

Dinner arrived shortly after. Sherlock didn't eat much having already had a sandwich. He passed the food around his plate, obviously deep in thought. No-one really bothered him, knowing that he needed time. He made his excuses about needing the bathroom and walked off from the table. John's eyes followed him. Sherlock was obviously going to check something out.

The other four ate with eagerness, hungry after their walk and their plates were cleared by the time Sherlock returned.

"Shall we go for a night time drive?" he announced, standing up. John took the prompt and encouraged the others to join him.

Sherlock was already seated in the drivers chair as the others got in. John was in the front with him and Mary, Molly and Lestrade in the back. Once the doors were closed he let out a sigh.

"We are clear to talk in here but you need to be aware of everything you say outside this vehicle. I have the case solved and pieced together. Please just give me a moments silence. I need to think and observe." he reversed the car and then drove slowly out of the car park, his eyes darting in every direction, taking in all the other vehicles parked there.

"What's going on, Sherlock?" asked Lestrade a few minutes later when it became clear that he was out of his focussed observation mode.

Sherlock simply replied with four words "We are being followed."


	37. Chapter 37

There was silence in the car. No-one dared turn around. Sherlock's driving remained steady and within a couple of minutes they found themselves back at the cottage.

"Act totally normally" was the simple words quietly muttered by John as they all started to climb out.

Immediately Molly's happy voice chirped up "that was a lovely meal. Anyone fancy a cup of tea?"

Mary voiced her immediate agreement "Yes, that sounds great. We'll make it. You boys go and take your shoes off and relax in the lounge. I think we have some cake left over too for desert."

And with that the cottage was unlocked and the five of them were in.

Lestrade went to speak again. Sherlock silenced him by putting his finger to his lips. Taking the cue John started to talk about the walk they had been on earlier. Sherlock drew the curtains and turned on the light. As John spoke, Sherlock carefully studied the room. He motioned Lestrade and John over to the lamp on the table. They noticed a small black box on the stem. It was a bug. Sherlock grabbed his drawing pad out of his pocket and simply wrote 'Installed while we were at dinner." The others nodded and carried on talking as if nothing had happened.

By this time the girls had come into the room to join them. John silently pointed to the bug and Molly and Mary nodded their understanding. Sherlock took his mobile out of his pocket and started to text. John and Lestrade watched as he did so. It was a text to Mycroft.

_Back up. Blockley. Tomorrow morning 9am. Two teams. One at cottage. One in churchyard near pub. You are family come to visit and to celebrate my return from hospital. SH_

A response back

_Understood. MH_

Sherlock then picked his drawing pad back up. 'There is nothing more we can do this evening. Casual conversation."

With that Mary and Molly returned to the jigsaw they were completing earlier, John and Lestrade picked up a pack of cards and John started to deal and Sherlock returned to his mind palace. To anyone looking in from the outside it looked like the picture of contentment and tranquillity.

The morning was a quiet one. Sherlock and Molly were first to rise. Sherlock had spent much of the night in thought before joining Molly in bed around 4am. Molly had snuggled into him as he lay down, holding him tight to her. She had quickly learned that while he was working her affections were not reciprocated but she didn't mind. Just for now she wanted to hold him close.

She got up and made him a coffee while he showered. The others began to surface not long after and Mary and Molly busied themselves making a cooked breakfast for everyone although they doubted that Sherlock would eat much.

It was while they were all sitting at the table that the doorbell rang bang on 9am. It was Mycroft and behind him was a small team all standing a little way away enjoying a cigarette or just chatting as you'd expect a 'family' to do.

Mycroft entered and greeted his brother as any normal brother would do, with a hug and a friendly greeting. It was only those inside the cottage who knew the Holmes brothers never did affection.

Molly greeted Mycroft with a kiss on the cheek before her hand found Sherlocks. She squeezed it hard and looked straight into his eyes. She was desperately trying to say 'be careful please' with them and from the look she got back she knew Sherlock understood her message. He bent down and gave her a kiss on the lips. She reciprocated trying to put every ounce of emotion into it. This was the first time since she and Sherlock had become close that he was facing any kind of danger and a wave of panic had hit her as she had realised this.

Mycroft entered the room and was greeted in turn by John then Mary. Lestrade was the last and they smiled at each other before Lestrade bent over and quickly kissed his cheek. Mycroft smiled back and gave his hand a small squeeze before standing up straight and returning to normal as if nothing had happened between them. Mary and Molly shot a smiling glance at each other.

Mycroft then turned to Sherlock and nodded. Sherlock nodded in return, kissed Molly lightly on the cheek and headed out closing the door behind him. Molly watched as in turn Sherlock greeted each of the team outside asif they were old friends. A shake of the hand for the men, and a hug and a kiss for each of the girls. They all then walked off down the lane.

Molly watched Sherlock go with John. It was a very different looking Sherlock who left their presence. Before he had had his long curly hair and no glasses. Now he left them with his very short hair and glasses. A different look but still the same brilliant man underneath.

There was no contact with anyone until gone 4pm when they saw Sherlock and Mycroft walking towards the cottage. There was no-one else with them. The day had been spent wandering around the cottage and pottering in the garden. It had been hard for the four of them not to speak about what was going on, constantly mindful of the listening device in the lounge, and the fact Sherlock had raised an awareness to them that even the garden wasn't safe to talk in.

The relaxed posture of Sherlock and Mycroft and the lack of other people told those waiting behind that all was fine. Molly ran out of the front door and straight to Sherlock. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, relieved that he had returned unscathed. Sherlock lifted Molly off the ground and she wrapped her legs around him as they kissed. Mycroft silently stepped away and into the house. The three of them looked back at Sherlock and Molly.

"Lets leave them be" said Mary pulling the three men into the kitchen. Mary held John's hand and kissed his cheek, both of them visibly relaxing after the events of the past 36 hours. Standing behind them, unseen, Mycroft and Lestrade shared a brief kiss.

A few moments later Sherlock and Molly walked into the kitchen hand in hand and joined the rest of them.

Lestrade looked expectantly between Mycroft and Sherlock. "Well? Are you going to fill us all in?"

"I'll make a drink and then we can all sit in the lounge" said Molly cheerfully but Sherlock did not want to let her hand go. He pulled her back into him as she walked away.

"Don't worry, I'll do it" laughed Mary. "You two go and have a moment."

"It's not like that Mary" smiled Molly as they walked into the lounge and sat down on the sofa.

A few minutes later John and Mary arrived in the lounge with a tray of drinks and everyone settled down. Sherlock and Molly on one sofa, Mary and John sharing an arm chair and the other sofa taken up by Mycroft and Lestrade. Mycroft appeared to have let his guard down for once, obviously comfortable in the company of the others as he had allowed Lestrade to put his arm around him and the two of them were sitting very close.

Sherlock took a sip of his coffee and cleared his throat to speak.


	38. Chapter 38

"The first thing I must do is to remove this" and with that Sherlock walked up to the bug in the lounge and removed it. He stood on it with his shoe until it smashed and then made sure that the battery was removed before throwing it into the bin.

"Well Lestrade, your hunch was correct. There has indeed been a smuggling ring in Blockley. It revolved around the counterfeiting of £20 notes and the base was in the pub. I spent some time observing the residents of the village under the guise of being an amateur artist. It was most enlightening as a cover as no-one questioned me at all. They all let me go about my business as it I were no threat. Several of them even came over and had conversations with me regarding it. It is amazing how much information you can actually get out of someone when they think they are talking to you about a totally different subject.

"Practically the whole village population has been in on the ruse. It all commenced around 11 months ago when a new landlord moved into the pub. Slowly he managed to persuade members of the community to join him in his illegal activities and withi months had enough of them involved to really get his plan into action. He managed to involve the village shop, the residents and even the vicar.

"The whole scheme was motivated by money. That became apparent in discussion with several people about them managing to clear their debts once they had moved to the village, yet they do not work. Others drive cars which do not tie in to the level of intelligence they own, or the amount of initiative and drive they have for their work. The church council meetings were used to do their planning as no-one suspected them at first. And simply as the number of people involved grew, so the church council grew. I spent time in the church and found that the council minutes were all almost identical, meaning someone was lying about what was being discussed on a monthly basis. Therefore the meetings were not actually covering the topics being minuted.

"The counterfeit printing press is stored in the crypt of the church. I was doing some brass rubbings but the vibrations coming through the floor were not as I would expect leading me to conclude that there was a good deal of activity going on under ground, a hunch which proved correct to me when I found out about the leap in electricity consumption at the church in the last 6 months or so.

"I then started to investigate how the counterfeit notes were being smuggled out of the village. As you will have observed on your walk yesterday, the village has an abnormally high number of routes in and out. Much more than any other village of this type, meaning that it was specifically targeted for its location by the individual(s) who were leading the ring. This then also implied that the transport method was by road rather than by post or some other route. There are only two places in the village who get regular deliveries - the pub and the shop. From a simple process of elimination it was clear that it was not the shop but the pub which was the epicentre.

"I waited at the pub until the delivery and then sat upon the bench on the village green opposite. As a trained musician I am blessed with perfect pitch and therefore was able to listen to each barrel being delivered to the pub and each barrel being taken away from the pub. There were four distinct notes. The lower two of the notes was the barrels being delivered full to the pub. Surely full barrels would have the same note consistently but no. There were two very clear different notes.

"It was exactly the same for the barrels being taken away. Two very clear, different notes. The notes were obviously higher in pitch than the full barrels, but also at this point the slightly higher of the two notes had a clearer sounding resonance than the lower of the two. This implied that something was deadening the sound.

"The solution was very simple. Some of the barrels had a second skin. The lower of the notes of the barrels being delivered and the lower note with the slightly muffled resonance of the empty barrels. It became clear. The counterfeit notes were being smuggled in between the main skin and the second skin of the adapted barrels. And therefore it was very easy for the smugglers to disguise their antics as they could always produce barrels which had no second skin.

"Once this all became clear I called in Mycroft and his team. We went to the pub for a drink and a chat and waited until the delivery. Once the delivery was underway a second team undertook the arrests of those around the village who were involved whilst we undertook the arrests of those in the pub actively involved in the operation. They were caught red handed and as we speak are being arrested and interviewed by local police."

The four who had not been involved sat with their mouths open.

"That" said John "Was brilliant. What on earth possessed you to listen to the pitch of barrels?"

"Because I don't just see, I observe John. You of all people should know that."

"So who installed the bug?" queried Mary

"The lady who keeps the cottage clean for my parents?" asked Molly

"Almost certainly. I believe she broke in almost immediately after we left last night."

"And what of the flashing light in the church?" enquired Lestrade

"The number of barrels to be picked up the next day and therefore the number of barrels with second skins that needed to be replaced on that next delivery. "

"Quite ingenious" muttered Lestrade under his breath "and as always, brilliantly solved Sherlock. Well done. I for one am delighted to see you returning to full health."

Sherlock didn't say much but just took his glasses off, handed them to Molly and scratched his head. Molly wrapped her arm around him as he sat back into the sofa and he let his head fall onto her shoulders. His eyes started to droop and within moments he was fast asleep.

The group fell quiet for a while, wanting to let Sherlock sleep. He had done a brilliant job as always but it was clear that he was exhausted. Mary passed Molly her book and she sat silently as Sherlock slept on her shoulder. John and Mary snuggled into each other and put the TV on silent with subtitles and Mycroft and Lestrade stood up, slipped their coats and shoes on and headed out for a short walk.

It was an hour and a half later when Lestrade and Mycroft returned hand in hand. Lestrade grinned as they entered. Mycroft's expression was a little more aloof as you would expect of someone who was the British government, but underneath it his eyes were shining.

John looked inquisitively at them "Mycroft and I have decided to formally give our relationship a chance" was the slightly excited response from Lestrade.

"About time too" came the first response back. It was from Sherlock whose eyes were still closed as he rested on Molly's shoulder.

To celebrate a case well solved, Sherlock's recovery and their blossoming relationship Lestrade and Mycroft cooked dinner. There was much laughter heard from the kitchen as the two of them worked together to prepare the food for the evening. Sherlock continued to doze on the sofa although he had moved off Molly's shoulder as she complained him leaning on it had made it go to sleep! Sherlock made some moan before budging over. John and Mary carried on watching TV still wrapped up in each others arms.

Molly surveyed the cottage. It had been a really successful day. Sherlock had returned successfully to his brilliant case solving self, and the six of them were happy - happier than she had known them all in a long time. Three relationships were well underway, all of which she suspected were for the long haul. Mary and John were incredibly happy and as one. Mycroft was beginning to let his guard down and by the way he and Greg looked at each other, it was obvious there was a real affection there and a strong happy relationship was definitely brewing.

Her gaze turned to Sherlock. His eyes closed. She suspected that he was actually asleep as she was learning to tell the difference between sleep and pretending. She'd spent long enough in the hospital observing him to be able to tell although he was very good at faking. Her heart jumped. She could see her future there with him. OK, it may not be the future she had envisaged as a child, and it probably wouldn't involve the children she so longed to have although she and Sherlock had never actually had that conversation. But she had the man she loved and they were at last together. He had pulled through his illness and was on his way back to full strength. Without his glasses he looked so young, so different. But with his glasses she saw him as sexy and incredibly brave, bearing the scars of his challenges with dignity.

Dinner was soon ready and they sat down to a wonderful traditional English Sunday roast with chicken, sausage meat, potatoes, vegetables, stuffing, bread sauce, cranberry sauce and all the trimmings. It was heaven. They tucked in like there was no tomorrow and even Sherlock managed to completely clear his plate. The wine flowed and the chatter came easily. They laughed, they smiled and most of all the feeling around the table was one of friendship.

With the meal eaten, the table collectively cleared and the washing up shared and done, they moved into the lounge, back to the chairs they had been sitting on earlier. The conversation continued.

Sherlock and Mycroft's eyes met across the room. Mycroft flicked a glance to Greg and Sherlock flicked a glance to Molly before their eyes re-met across the table. Both nodded to each other, giving the other the approval for their relationships. The Holmes brother finally accepting that perhaps for once caring could be an advantage.

Mary reached over and collected Sherlock's violin. She passed it to him giving him permission to play which is did. He rolled off a series of tunes both popular and of his own composing. The group sat listening watching the flames of the fire flickering. Sherlock had the ability to still a room with the beauty of his playing.

He played for around 20 minutes before laying the violin gently down. Molly suggested that they play a game and they all eagerly agreed except Sherlock who went and sat in the corner with his drawing pad. He sat silently drawing while the five of them sat around playing a board game.

It was an hour or so later that they finished their game and saw Sherlock had finished his drawing.

"Are we allowed to see it?" asked Mary

Sherlock nodded and handed it over. It was amazing. A stunning likeness of them all captured in time. The skill of his work was incredible, the detail clear and precise. They all marvelled over his skill and talent, asking him why he had kept it hidden for so long.

The clock on the mantelpiece chimed the hours and as they counted they realised it was midnight. Greg was the first to stand up. He held his hand up to Mycroft who took it. They bade good night to everyone giving Mary and Molly a kiss before heading off to the room Greg had used on his own the night before.

Mary and John were next to follow soon after. Mary gave Sherlock and Molly a kiss, John gave Molly a kiss and then they were gone.

Molly turned to Sherlock. A smile across her face, she in turn stood up and then held her hand out to him, ready to lead him to their bedroom.


	39. Chapter 39

The following morning Sherlock and Molly spent a little time in bed enjoying each others company, before rising at around 10am. They got up find the house empty and two notes on the side.

The first was from Greg and Mycroft who had obviously left very early, both due back at work that day. It was written in Lestrade's hand. The note read

"Dear all, thank you for a lovely time. Sherlock thanks for solving the case, and to you all thank you for great company. We have to get back to work so we're leaving really early but we will see you all soon. Much love Greg and Mycroft x"

The second was from John and Mary, and had obviously been written by Mary

"We've loved your company and had such a lovely time, but we're going to leave you alone to enjoy each others company. Let us know when you are back in London and we'll be straight round to see you both. In the mean time enjoy your time together. Mary and John xxx"

Molly couldn't help but feel a little sad that everyone had gone. She'd had such a lovely evening the night before but she was also very excited about having some time alone with Sherlock. She did, however, feel a little uneasy about being in the cottage with all that had gone on recently. She was lost in thought for a moment before Sherlock spoke up.

"We're expected at around 3pm, so shall we start to pack up?"

"I'm sorry?"

"It's quite clear that we should perhaps consider moving on from here. After the events of the past few days the locals may not take kindly to our presence in the village, so I have made alternative plans for the next 10 days or so."

"Where are we going?"

"My parents. They have plenty of room and will not bother us. Mycroft and I rang them yesterday before returning to the cottage and made plans. I trust that is acceptable?"

"I was just thinking the same thing! Much as I love it here, it doesn't feel right. I'm worried about the cottage though."

"Mycroft has that in hand. All will be fine."

They were breakfasted and packed up by noon and started the journey to Sherlock's parents. Molly had no idea where they lived and so she drove most of the way before letting Sherlock take over to drive the final 2 or 3 miles through the countryside to his parents house. She watched with interest, has she had done the night they had driven from the pub in such a hurry, at the precise and careful way in which Sherlock drove. His movements and speed carefully calculated, the speed limit never exceeded and his hands constantly on the correct place on the steering wheel. If she didn't know better she'd have presumed he had undertaken advance driving lessons. But of course he had! Sherlock Holmes was not the sort of person to do things by half. If he was going to learn to drive, he was going to learn all the elements that advance driving involved!

As they pulled up to his parents house, Molly felt herself take a sharp intake of breath. It was beautiful. Deep red with a wisteria growing up the front, and a cottage garden wall. She was stuck by the similarity of it to the cottage her own parents owned. Sherlock had grown up in this house, this was the place he had known as home, and it was so like her own upbringing.

Sherlock's parents were out of the house in a flash, excitedly coming to the car. The last time Molly had seen them, their faces were sombre and serious, Sherlock so very ill and them so worried about him. This time could not have been so different. Their smiling, relaxed faces were overcome with emotion at seeing Sherlock home.

Sherlock's mother held him tight before pulling back and taking a good look at him. The last time she had seen him well was when he came down to their house to collect his notebooks to help Lestrade solve the crime carried out by the brother in Australia. That had been 3 months ago, and his appearance was so different now. He had not seen his parents to talk to since he had got his glasses and of course his hair was gone. You did have to do a double take to know it was the same man. That was, until he spoke. Once he spoke, his velvety tones clearly distinguished who he was.

Sherlock's father greeted Molly like a long lost family member. She had warmed to them both in the hospital, and it was apparent that they felt the same about her.

They then swapped and Molly was engulfed in Mrs Holmes arms, like the daughter she never had. Mr Holmes and Sherlock started with a hand shake before going for a bear hug.

Sherlock and Molly were then ushered into the house where Mrs Holmes had a welcoming cup of tea and a home made cake waiting for them. The inside of the house was just as warm and welcoming as the outside. Molly watched with interest as Sherlock relaxed into its homely atmosphere, kicking off his shoes by the front door before his father followed him in, putting his shoes on the rack, just like he probably did when Sherlock was a child! Molly followed Sherlock into the kitchen where Mrs Holmes was pouring out the tea, the smile on her face bigger than Molly had ever seen on anyone. It was apparent that Mr and Mrs Holmes were utterly thrilled to have them both to stay.

"Now Sherlock, off you go for a rest" said Mrs Holmes handing him his cup of tea "I had a text from John after you'd told him you were coming here. Strict instructions that you must rest after the journey and he's worried you've overdone it in the past few days, so no arguments.. The bed is all made up for you and " she paused and looked at Molly "and Molly." The smile, which was already huge visibly grew in front of Molly's eyes.

Sherlock didn't need telling twice. Molly could tell he was tired. He turned and left the room, leaving Molly alone with Mr and Mrs Holmes. It wasn't an awkward time. They wanted to know what had been going on in the Cotswolds, and also indirectly asked some questions about Mycroft and Lestrade. Molly suspected that Mr and Mrs Holmes had probably guessed what was going on but wanted to get confirmation from Molly. She was very coy and guarded in her answers while trying to be honest.

"They both came and joined us in the Cotswolds as Sherlock wrapped up the case, but had to leave to head back to London as they both had to work."

"Did they head back together?"

"I believe so. We woke up to a note from them this morning explaining they'd had to return to London to go back to work. But we also had a note from John and Mary who had to do much the same thing too. I guess it's just me and Sherlock who have some time off."

Satisfied with the answer, the three of them sat chatting about things in general, about how well Sherlock was looking and about Molly's work. Mr Holmes in particular was interested in the chemistry side of her work. Molly was rapidly gaining an understanding of where Sherlock's intelligence and interests came from. Both of them were extremely logical people, Mrs Holmes a mathematician and Mr Holmes a chemist. They also both had a love of music. They had met at University and children had cut short a brilliant career for Mrs Holmes.

There were photographs in the lounge of Sherlock and Mycroft as children, and Mrs Holmes proudly showed Molly all Sherlock's school and university certificates. "He was never bothered about them himself so I kept them all." Molly didn't even have to look at them to know what they would contain. A line of 'A's met her eye when she saw his school certificates, with A levels in Chemistry, Biology, Maths, Physics and Music. It came as no surprise too that not only did he have a 1st class honours degree in Chemistry from Cambridge, but he also had a masters and recognition of the highest ever score in his final year exams.

They had been talking for well over 2 hours when they be came aware of Sherlock standing in the doorway looking much refreshed. He rolled his eyes at his mother when he saw she had got his certificates out, before walking into the kitchen to put his cup down. Molly made her excuses and went to join him.

"They are really proud of you, you know."

Sherlock nodded. "I know. It's just that to be honest I'm not bothered. They're only bits of paper. It's the information I gleaned completing them which means more to me. I could probably recall everything I learned if I wished to so why do I need a piece of paper to tell me I learned it? They wanted me to do a PHd and maybe I will one day when I'm bored. I was thinking of doing it about whether a persons blood type and make up determines whether they are destined to turn to a life of crime. I've built up quite a database in my mind palace about it. I know you are fine, John is too. I'm not so sure about Mary though. Mrs Hudson is interesting. Her husband links her to crime and her blood type shows certain tendencies. Mycroft on the other hand..."

Molly put her finger to his lips. "Lets not talk about that" she laughed. "Your Mum and Dad are lovely. I'm so glad we came here to stay. It'll be nice to get to know them better."

"We'll not stay long but there are some old note books I want to get out of the loft. There are a few cases I've been thinking about recently and one in particular that I want Lestrade to revisit for me. In the mean time, shall we go out for a walk? I need some fresh air and a break." He held out his hand to Molly and she took it keenly.

They popped their head in to excuse themselves for a bit, put on their boots and coats and walked hand in hand back down the road they had driven up. From the front window Mr and Mrs Holmes watched them go, nodding their approval to each other.

"I suspect that at last two of our sons might just have found what we have hoped for them." said Mrs Holmes clearing up the tea cups and plates, heading into the kitchen to start to prepare the evening meal.

Molly and Sherlock walked for 15 minutes, reaching a field on the edge of the village. It was a beautiful sunny day, and Sherlock took his coat off and lay it on the ground for them both to sit down on. They sat down wrapped in each others arms and looked at the rolling hills in front of them. They could see for miles in front of them and watched as a train travelled along the railway line down in the valley below and as the traffic moved along a busy motor way and up through a cutting carved into the rocks. The spring flowers were starting to bloom in force and the leaf buds on the trees were ready to spring open. The early blossoms were out giving bursts of pink and white across the landscape and in the distance Sherlock pointed out to Molly that a farmer was ploughing his fields and the lambs were with their mothers.

"I know this spot well" Sherlock said at last. "It was the place I used to come to when I wanted to be alone. I knew no one would find me here. I could spend hours thinking or drawing or reading or just watching and observing. I learned a lot of my observational skills here. "

"It's beautiful. Thank you for sharing it with me, Sherlock. I love spring" said Molly. "A sign of rebirth after the darkness." She turned and looked straight into Sherlock's eyes "It's so apt. You're going through the same. Coming back to us after your illness." She kissed him on the lips and was met with the same passion back again.

Slowly they rolled back onto Sherlock's coat, their kiss intensifying. It was indeed a private, secluded spot that Sherlock had chosen, and they both knew they were safe to express their feelings to each other there with no danger at all of being discovered. It was too cold to get undressed fully but luckily Molly was wearing a dress so there was no need!

Gently Molly removed her pants and undid his trousers and pulled them down a little before she climbed on top of Sherlock. In the open air, in the beauty of their surroundings they made love. It was a moment for them both to remember. No need to rush, no need to think of anything else, just each other. It was perfect.

After they had finished, they lay in each others arms for quite some time. They had pulled Molly's coat over the top of them to keep them warm and they lay looking at the cloud formations, pointing out the things they spotted in the sky. Molly went for the more silly things, pointing out shapes she spotted such as a sheep and a banana. Sherlock was more interested in the type of clouds they were, how they were formed, how high they were and how quickly they were moving.

Molly began to get conscious of getting a little cold and so suggested that it might be time to head back to the Holmes house. They picked up their coats and headed back hand in hand.

"I wonder what we have got for dinner? Your mum said she was going to prepare something."

"Chicken stew. She always makes Chicken stew. She thinks Mycroft and I like it so she always makes it when we visit."

"And do you like it?"

"Of course not. It's her way of getting me to eat all the vegetables she knows I don't like. And it'll be rice pudding for desert."

"But you like rice pudding"

"Yes I do, just not the way my mother cooks it. You can cut it into squares and eat it with your fingers. Mycroft managed to make his bounce off the floor and back up into his hand once. He got caught though. My Dad thought it was hilarious. My mother wasn't amused"

Molly laughed at the vision of Mycroft bouncing his pudding on the floor while his mum wasn't looking. She could just imagine Mr Holmes laughing his head off at his sons antics. There were, underneath it all, such a normal family. Molly knew if she bided her time one day she would find out why Sherlock and Mycroft became so different to their mum and dad. One day he would open up to her and tell her.

They were soon back at the house and greeted with the smell of home cooking. "Wash your hands you two" came a shout from the kitchen "Dinners on the table. I've cooked your favourite, Sherlock. Chicken Stew followed by Rice Pudding."


	40. Chapter 40

It was strange for Sherlock to wake up in his old bedroom. He'd not stayed over at his parents house for several years. In fact, the last time he had done so was for the funeral of his uncle, where he and Mycroft were made to stay over at the insistence of his Mother. It wasn't an experience he'd enjoyed and he and Mycroft had headed back to London at the earliest possible opportunity the next morning. In fact, if Sherlock recalled correctly, they were back in London as the sun was rising, much to the displeasure of their mother.

It was even stranger for Sherlock to wake up in his old bedroom in the company of someone else, especially as that someone else was female. He lay for a while with his glasses on, looking around at the familiar surroundings, recalling every detail of the ceiling, walls, windows and floor with perfect clarity, before rolling over and watching Molly as she slept. He loved the way she slept with her hands curled up underneath her head, her hair falling over her face and shoulders, her lips slightly parted and her nose twitching occasionally. It was only the tap from his mother and the information that breakfast would be ready in 15 minutes that rose Molly from her sleep.

Sherlock was feeling tired. The case in the Costwolds and the journey had taken more out of him than he realised. Over breakfast Molly could see that he wasn't as bright as he might be, and suggested they spend a day in the house resting.

"You do look tired, Sherlock dear", said Mrs Holmes agreeing with Molly's concerns.

Sherlock looked most unhappy at the thought of being stuck in the house and stared deeply into the bottom of his cup of coffee. Deep down he knew that a day at home was actually just what he needed but he was keener to go out and to show Molly around the area, the place where he grew up and all the secret places he had found.

Molly could sense that the idea was not going down well. Suddenly an idea struck her. "Why don't we spend the day in the attic looking at your old note books. You said you had some cases you wanted to re-visit, and to put some new evidence to Lestrade. What do you think?"

Sherlock's eyes brightened. Yet again Molly had read his mind perfectly. That was exactly what he wanted to do. The idea appealed enormously to him. He nodded to Molly to indicate that this was exactly the plan for the day and then sat back and closed his eyes, entering his mind palace. Mrs Holmes and Molly smiled and nodded to each other, both knowing a day without running around was just what he needed.

Sherlock in the mean time was deep in his mind palace. He was sorting through the old cases he had in the attic, deciding which note books he wanted to find and to review. He knew exactly where they all were and the order they were sorted in to. Once he had decided which cases he would review that day, it was simply a case of heading up to the attic, pulling out the relevant books and then reading back through the notes. He would also take his phone with him to search out potential new evidence. He had decided Molly could be his note keeper. After half an hour or so in his mind palace, he believed that there were potentially six cases to revisit, and he had mentally logged where each one was. He opened his eyes.

"When you are ready, Molly, lets head up to the attic. I have six cases I would initially like to review and you can act as my note taker. Bring a pen". And with that he was off up the stairs and within seconds Molly could hear him pulling the loft ladder down.

Mrs Holmes tapped Molly on the shoulder. "I'll bring you both a drink up in a bit. If I know Sherlock you could be up there for quite a while too. Grab your jumpers on the way up. You'll need them up there, it's chilly. I'll send your Father up with a fan heater for you. Ooh, and you'll need cushions to sit on too" she said handing Molly a couple of cushions from the sofa in the lounge.

Molly did as Mrs Holmes suggested and took two jumpers and a pen up into the loft with her. She was glad she had. It was warming up outside but it was still only early spring and the sun was not yet on the roof. It was a matter of minutes later that Mr Holmes popped his head through the loft ladder gap and handed over a fan heater. Molly quickly plugged it in and then sat down, glad of the cushion instead of having to sit on the hard boards.

Sherlock was deep in his notes, sorting through note books and every so often pulling one out until six books sat in front of him, all identical in their appearance and with no outward markings on them. But despite them looking identical to Molly it was quite apparent that Sherlock could identify each one from its small scratches and indentations.

Very carefully Sherlock picked up his first note book and began to read. It was obvious to Molly that not much conversation was going to come out of him for some time. She watched with interest as he read back over his old childhood notes. Each of the cases they were revisiting was probably 20 or 25 years old, and she was sure, with confidence, that Sherlock had probably correctly solved each and very crime contained within the note books.

There were around 50 of the books in total, all carefully stored on a book shelf in one corner of the attic. Each book was a small leather hard bound book, about A5 in size containing around 100 pages of blank paper. She could see from looking at the books that lay open on the floor that the information contained within them was very carefully compiled. It was a mixture of cuttings from newspapers, carefully drawn and labelled diagrams and written notes. As always his notes were carefully and neatly written and carefully planned. There were complex chemical equations in there too, way beyond the level a school boy of his age should have been able to do, and along side that maths equations also.

She was longing to pick up one of the books and to look at it in more detail. She was just starting to summon up the courage to pick one up off the floor when Sherlock suddenly moved and her attention was drawn to him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and threw it to her.

"I need you to double check which metallic elements dissolve quickest in different types of acid" he said suddenly before burying his head back into his book. Molly smiled to herself as she ran a Google search, taking a note of the order of times from the information she was able to find.

It was about 10 minutes later he asked Molly for her findings. With a nod he closed that particular note book and stretched his back. Molly looked at him keenly.

"Well?" she asked

"I shall inform Lestrade that he will be able to reopen this case and find himself a murderer. Again my notes prove correct. The police had assumed a suicide as no murder weapon was every found. At the time I had suspected murder, with the weapon having been dissolved in a local factory where there were vats of several different chemicals. The factory had a break in just 2 days after the body was found and the police never linked the two but to me it was clear that they were linked. The murder took place over 25 years ago and it will turn out to have been a dispute between two neighbours over noise. I need those notes on the acids you found so I can hand this information. over"

Molly looked down to her notes and tore the page carefully out of her note book. She was about to comment on his findings when she realised he had already moved on to the next notebook. He had lain the relevant notebook next to her so she was able to slip the notes into it for him. She grabbed a quick look through the book and could see that indeed he had reached that conclusion. The hand it was written in was so clearly Sherlock's but that of a more under-developed style of writing. She did not dare look at it for long for fear of distracting him as he was so obviously deep in his mind palace and lost in a world of past cases.

Molly looked at him. He was so matter of fact about it all, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Where Scotland Yard had failed or got it wrong, the 12 or 13 year old Sherlock had solved the crime with consummate ease.

When he raised his head from the next book it was again with a smile on his face.

"Fraud. Off shore bank account in the name of a dead father in law. Again another motive for murder. Daughter and son in law had been blackmailing and defrauding as a result of gambling debts. I suspect Lestrade will like reeling this one in. They've become quite a name within the crime scene of London and he's been looking for a way to arrest them for a while but we've not been able to pin anything on them until now. I had wanted to revisit this one for quite some time but circumstances prevented."

A polite cough at the bottom of the ladder indicated Mrs Holmes had brought the promised drinks and Molly headed down to get them.

"How is he?" she asked Molly as she handed over the drinks

"As happy as I've ever known him" laughed Molly "It's like he's revisiting old friends up there."

"He used to spend hours and hours as a child up there or in his bedroom compiling those note books. His father and I have never dared touch them for fear of him knowing that we'd moved one of them. He knows every detail of every book you know." Molly thanked Mrs Holmes for the drinks and then headed back to Sherlock who had his head buried in a third book.

Sherlock spent several hours focused on the cases he had chosen. A Jewellery heist hidden in someone's pony tail, Drug smuggling using the lifeboat of a fishing trawler, an unsolved break in at the Tower of London (it was all to do with the ravens apparently), and a shooting in broad daylight in Trafalgar square motivated by a claim of asylum. Mrs Holmes brought them more drinks and some lunch up into the attic. Sherlock was oblivious to all of this, his head buried in his notes, his mind totally focussed elsewhere. Molly and Mrs Holmes watched him with delight, the illness that had so nearly taken him from them no longer evident, and they could see Sherlock re-emerging.

It was around 3pm that Sherlock finally put down the 6th book and declared himself happy with each of the cases. "I will call Lestrade later and detail each case to him. He is aware that I have picked these back up and is requesting the files be re-opened. It won't take long to sort them once he has all the evidence I will present to him."

He stood up and stretched, before rubbing his head slightly.

"Headache?" asked Molly a little concerned as he was looking slightly pale. "C'mon, why don't you go and have a rest for a bit. There's nothing more to be done today so you go and sleep. I'll go and help your parents with the gardening or the cooking or something." He smiled back at her as he headed down the loft ladder. Molly followed him into the bedroom, where he simply lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. Molly gently removed his glasses and kissed him lightly on the cheek before heading out of the door closing it silently behind her.

Downstairs Mr and Mrs Holmes were insistent that they didn't want any help with anything.

"This is your holiday, Molly" said Mr Holmes kindly. "You've been through more stress than all of us in the past few weeks and you look absolutely shattered. It will do you good to just sit down with a cup of tea and a good book." He scurried Molly out of the kitchen and led her to a comfy arm chair. Mrs Holmes followed seconds later with a cup of tea, and the book that had been by Molly's bedside. It was apparent that they had planned this carefully and were determined to give Molly some down time and space.

Molly could feel herself relaxing into the arm chair. This was just the pick me up that she needed after spending so long running around between home, work and the hospital while Sherlock was unwell, and then while sorting out everything to go to the Cotswolds. She hadn't been sure about the move to Sherlock's parents but it had in fact been just the thing that she needed. She needed someone to take the pressure off her for a while and Mr and Mrs Holmes were wise enough and kind enough to realise just this. She sipped her tea, enjoying the book that she was nearing the end of.

An hour or so later Molly put the book down next to her. She knew Sherlock would have solved 'who dunnit' within minutes of even opening the book but she had enjoyed the twists and turns in it, and the final solution. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to reflect on the past 9 or so weeks. It was crazy but she realised that this was actually the first time she had had time to sit and think in all that time. She had been so on the go she had totally neglected herself.

Her thoughts worked back through all the recent events. The fact that she had discovered how bad Sherlock's eyesight was, helped him through it, gone to Brighton with him, spent such fantastic time with him. And then how he had become so very ill, how she had supported him through it, and how they had grown so very very close. She loved him, and she was confident, in return, that he loved her back. Her mind wandered for a short while, daring to consider whether they had any form of future together.

Molly was happily lost in her world of thought when she suddenly sat up and her blood ran cold. She had a sudden realisation. In all the hubbub and drama of the past few weeks she had totally missed the fact that she'd not had her period for 8 weeks...


	41. Chapter 41

Molly felt herself wobble as she tried to stand up. The realisation hit her straight away. There was no doubting it. The very first time they had been together, they had not used protection, and the timings were spot on. Her initial feeling was one of total panic.

"Are you OK?" came Sherlock's voice from the lounge door as he walked through, obviously just woken up from his sleep. "You look faint. Do you need a glass of water?"

"I'm fine really. It's nothing. More importantly how are you feeling? Any better?"

"Refreshed thank you. Mother says dinner will be around an hour. Shall we head out for a walk in the mean time?"

Molly breathed out at last. A walk was just what she needed. She nodded and walked into the hall to sit on the stairs and pull on her walking boots. Her mind was spinning. When did she tell Sherlock? How did she tell him? How would he react? She actually had no idea at all how he would react. She just prayed he wouldn't run away. The very thought made her blood run cold again and she felt the colour draining from her.

A hand gently reached out and pulled her up. Sherlock's concerned face looked down on her, inquisitively. He helped her on with her coat, they called they'd be back shortly and they headed out into the village.

They walked, hand in hand but in silence for a while until they returned to the spot where they had been yesterday. It was the most beautiful spot and they moved slightly further down from the day before to a bench overlooking a small stream with a style.

Molly took a deep breath. "Sherlock, I have something to tell you"

"That you are pregnant? Yes, I know."

"How on earth do you know? I only worked it out myself about half an hour ago."

"I've known for a couple of weeks. All the signs are there, Molly."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Because I was watching you and making sure you were careful. The only time I didn't say anything was when you had alcohol when we were in the Cotswolds. I thought if I said anything in front of everyone else they'd all guess before you did. Other than that my observations of you have been most satisfactory. You have been well until now, and I see no reason for that not to continue."

Molly looked at Sherlock aghast. He had known all that time and he had not said. She played it over in her mind.

Sherlock could see that she was thinking. "I did not say anything before as we have always been in the company of other people and I felt your reaction may have been one of shock and therefore it would have been impossible to keep it secret. You had to work it out for yourself and now you have. I believed it was something that we may want to keep between ourselves for the time being until we feel ready to tell everyone else." He leaned over and kissed Molly gently on the lips. "I have had time to get very used to the idea and I believe that I am very much looking forward to our arrival. Fatherhood was not something I had ever thought of before, indeed a relationship was very much out of the question. But now I believe that I am ready for both."

Molly turned and wrapped her arms around Sherlock, letting out a huge sigh. He was good with her and he was good with the prospect of being a Father. 9 weeks prior to this if someone had told her that they would be having this conversation, then she would have totally disbelieved them. Now it was reality and she was carrying his child. She didn't need to do a pregnancy test. Deep down she knew her body was changing, and Sherlock's observations were, in her experience, never wrong. She had only joked to Sherlock a day or so earlier that all this home cooking was making her put weight on and her trousers were tighter than they had been. She now realised the cooking wasn't the reason.

"I believe our child to be due in the middle of November, and you are approximately 8 weeks in gestation. I believe you should contact with your doctor as soon as we get back to London to arrange an ultrasound scan. Once the first trimester is complete, the chances of the pregnancy going to full term significantly increase, and we will be able to check that all is well with the foetus."

"I think you should move into Baker Street with me. Your flat only has one bedroom and we will need two. Plus we will have a live in baby sitter in Mrs Hudson who I believe will be most useful"

Molly smiled. Moving into Baker Street was actually just what she wanted. It was closer to work for her, and a bigger space "That sounds lovely, Sherlock. And Mrs Hudson is your landlady not your housekeeper, Sherlock."

He nodded then carried on talking "I think you should give up work in early October as there are case studies which prove that time off before the birth gives the mother time to rest. This should make the birthing process easier and you will be more rested ready to deal with the inevitable sleepless nights we will face."

Molly leant over and put her finger to his lips before kissing him. From what he was saying it was quite clear he had given it much thought in his mind. The fact he had not run away, and was still sitting next to her, their arms wrapped around each other (she hoped not from the cold) was a sign that all would be well. And he had said that they would face the sleepless nights together. Her heart jumped for joy. Sherlock's hand gently moved downwards and onto Molly's stomach where he left it.

They sat holding each other for some time, before Molly became conscious of the time, and the fact she couldn't really feel her feet. It was also getting darker. British Summer Time had kicked in a few days earlier so the nights were lighter than they had been but dusk was still setting in.

"When shall we tell your parents?" asked Molly

"I believe it would be appropriate to tell them sooner rather than later" replied Sherlock.

"Yes, I do believe you're right. Can I just get used to the idea myself and then perhaps we can tell them just before we leave?"

They walked hand in hand back to the house, where Sherlock's mother had laid on fish and chips, which was just the mean Molly fancied. She had a strange craving for a glass of milk too. She laughed to herself. It was amazing how the human body was. She obviously needed calcium and until she had worked out what was going on, she'd have just had some milk. Now it was what her body and her baby needed.

Dinner finished and the washing up completed, Sherlock made his excuses and retreated back up to the attic to sort his books, leaving Molly with Mr and Mrs Holmes. They were soon re-settled around the kitchen table for a game of monopoly.

The next few days passed easily. Mr and Mrs Holmes were delightful and looked after Sherlock and Molly as best they could. Meals were prepared for them, washing was done and each day after a lovely walk they would return to clean washing all ironed, folded and waiting on the bed for them. Molly allowed her mind to wander back to a time when her parents had been alive and her mum had done just the same for her. It was so lovely to spend time back as a real family and the thing she noticed about Sherlock in this time was how much he relaxed. He was easy company to be around. It was almost as if he missed his parents when he was in London but he didn't want to admit it.

Their walks were lovely. Just the two of them hand in hand exploring. Sherlock knew the area extremely well and so was able to show Molly things that most people would never have seen or observed. Seeing the world through Sherlock's eyes was a completely different experience from seeing them through her own. They took Sherlock's drawing pad with them, and Molly had been lent a different book by Mrs Holmes. Sometimes they would just sit for hours side by side on a bench somewhere while Molly read and Sherlock either drew or visited his mind palace. It was a time of relaxation and contentment that neither of them had expected to enjoy so much, or indeed to be spending together.

It was becoming apparent though that Sherlock was keen to start getting back to work. He was visiting his mind palace more and more, and had spoken to Lestrade several times over the phone. Lestrade would present the elements of a case, Sherlock would ask questions and within minutes the case would be solved and Lestrade would be heading off to make an arrest of some kind or another. Sherlock's strength was really returning, the tell tale sign that he'd not had an afternoon nap since they day they spent in the loft. He didn't need one.

A week after they arrived, the decision was taken that they would return to London the next day.

"It's time" said Molly. Sherlock nodded. They needed to go and tell Mr and Mrs Holmes they were planning to head back, but also it was time to tell them about the pregnancy. Molly and Sherlock had driven out of the village two days before, to a chemist to purchase a pregnancy test. It had of course confirmed what they already knew.

Mr and Mrs Holmes were in the kitchen cooking the evening meal when Sherlock and Molly walked in. They were greeted with the usual beaming smile from Mrs Holmes followed by Mr Holmes handing them both a cup of tea and gesturing them to sit at the kitchen table.

As there had been most afternoons, there was a long conversation over the walk Sherlock and Molly had taken, what they had seen etc. The conversation was freely flowing when Sherlock bit the bullet. "We are heading back to London tomorrow."

"I knew it would be soon. We have so enjoyed having you both to stay. It's been delightful to get to know you properly, Molly. You will hurry back to see us again won't you?" Mrs Holmes said quickly before her emotions could overtake her.

Molly looked at Sherlock and he nodded his head "Of course we will" Molly said. She took a deep breath "And next time we return there will be three of us."

Mrs Holmes took a moment to register what Molly had said. It was Mr Holmes who twigged first, an enormous smile breaking out across his face. He lept to his feet and clasped his hands together. Mrs Holmes followed soon after, and Molly was hugged and hugged until she thought she would break.

"When?" came the question from Mrs Holmes when she finally sat down again

"We believe it's due in the middle of November" said Sherlock. "We are yet to have confirmation and you are the first to know. We would appreciate it staying that way for the time being until we can share the news with friends."

"Of course, of course" said Mrs Holmes, wandering off. Underneath her breath Molly was sure she heard "Where are my knitting needles?"


	42. Chapter 42

The journey back to London was completed in no time. They shared the driving and returned the car to the hire company. They hailed a cab and firstly headed to Molly's flat to return most of her bags, before driving over to Baker Street.

Sherlock had text Mrs Hudson to let them know they'd be back just after lunch time. She had obviously been waiting for the key in the door because she was there to greet them before they'd even got the door fully open. She was delighted to see them both, kissing Sherlock on the cheek and hugging Molly tightly.

"Go on up. I've got some lunch prepared for you both. Be about 15 minutes."

Opening the door of the flat, it was apparent that Mrs Hudson had been in. The flat was immaculate, the surfaces dusted, all the washing up done, the fridge clean and clean sheets on Sherlock's bed.

Sherlock turned to Molly "Not my housekeeper, eh?" he said with a wry smile.

Mrs Hudson was soon up the stairs carrying a tray containing three plates of cottage pie, which was Sherlock's favourite meal, particularly when cooked by Mrs Hudson. They sat down and chatted about the last couple of weeks while Sherlock and Molly had been away.

Sherlock filled Mrs Hudson in on the case in the Cotswolds which she was partly aware of as she knew John and Mary had gone down with Lestrade and Mycroft had followed.

"Tell me" she asked "Is something going on between your brother and Greg?"

Sherlock simply replied with an "I do believe there may well be."

"But most importantly, we have some news for you Mrs Hudson" piped up Molly suddenly. "Sherlock has asked me to move in here with him."

Mrs Hudson lept up out of her chair and threw her arms firstly around Molly and then around Sherlock, the look of delight evident on her face.

"I had put clean sheets onto John's old bed in case it might be needed but I don't think it will now" she said excitedly.

Molly could hardly keep the grin off her face. She could keep it in no longer "Well actually Mrs Hudson, I think it might be needed, perhaps in about 7 months time."

The look of realisation on Mrs Hudson's face was priceless. You would have thought she was going to be a real grandmother, the excitement that hit her and the way she was hugging Molly.

"Please can you keep it to yourself for now" asked Molly. "We'll be heading over to John and Mary's later and we can tell them then."

Mrs Hudson nodded without letting to of Molly. "Oh Sherlock" was all that she could come out with. She was suddenly lost in a wave of thought, clearing away the plates and the cottage pie dish, before starting to head down the stairs to wash up. Underneath her breath Molly was sure she heard, not for the first time that day "Where are my knitting needles?"

Sherlock and Molly laughed "I think we're about to get rather a lot of knitted cardigans" giggled Molly, having visions of Mrs Hudson inviting all her friends round to sit and "knit and natter" (or Stitch and Bitch as Mycroft liked to call it.)

They were soon up and ready to go out again. As it was a Saturday Sherlock had text John and Mary and they were both at home. They wanted to go and see them as, as well as telling them about the baby, they were conscious time was ticking. The wedding was only 2 months away and while most of the planning and guest lists had been done before Sherlock took ill, there was much still to be done and prepared for the big day.

Rather than hail a cab, they did the journey to John and Mary's on the tube. It was only one change from the Bakerloo line onto the Northern Line and within 25 minutes they had arrived. Mary was first to answer the door and almost jumped for joy at the sight of Sherlock and Molly, greeting both with a hug. John followed soon after, first hugging Molly and then turning to Sherlock.

"You look well and rested."

"I feel well."

"Good, seems that a week with your parents is just what the doctor ordered for you and Molly. You both appear to have gained weight from all that home cooking."

Molly and Sherlock shot each other a quick, knowing glance.

"And your hair is growing back well Sherlock too" piped up Mary. It was indeed growing well. It had been 7 weeks since his surgery, and there was now about 2cm of hair all over his head, starting to hide the nasty scar which had been left.

John insisted on checking Sherlock's blood pressure and all his vitals to make sure he was indeed as well as he looked. All was well within the expected range, and John gave Sherlock a pat on the back as they headed into the lounge to join the girls who were excitedly talking about Mary's wedding dress.

Once the boys had joined them, they talked about what had happened in the week since they saw each other, how Lestrade had been in touch to update them regarding the case in the Costwolds, how Sherlock was planning to revisit some cases he'd solved as a child and then they moved onto wedding planning.

John and Mary had been to the venue two days prior and chosen the wedding breakfast. Sherlock had just opened his mouth to comment about the food when he felt a sharp kick under the table from Molly. He looked at her and she gave him a quick 'look' before shaking her head. He quickly closed his mouth and didn't say anything.

They discussed various things, from napkins to seating plans and orders of service to flowers, all of which needed to be finalised within the next couple of days. They methodically worked through everything and it appeared that all was well in hand.

The final thing to be sorted was Sherlock and John's suits, and Mary's dress. A date was set for the boys to go for their fitting. Mary was due to go alone to her own dress fitting and so she asked Molly if she would join her. Molly response was excited and positive as the two of them looked at photographs of the dress Mary had picked and ordered. Behind the photo of the wedding dress was the most beautiful bridesmaids dress Molly had ever seen. It was deep burgundy and was a very simple empire line dress, the same style as Mary's. Molly gasped and took an sharp intake of breath when she saw it.

"Do you like it?" Mary asked her

"I absolutely love it" Molly exclaimed. "It's utterly stunning. What a beautiful colour and the cut is amazing."

"That's good. I'm glad you like it. You're going to be wearing it after all." said Mary, smiling at Molly.

Molly looked at Mary, her mouth wide open. "Are you asking me to be your bridesmaid?" she asked after a beat

"Of course I am. Who else would I choose? And isn't the chief bridesmaid supposed to end up with the best man? So it all works perfectly. Will you do it?"

Molly hugged Mary tightly and kissed her cheek before running over to John and throwing her arms around him. "Yes, I'd be honoured and thrilled" she said, the tears streaming down her cheeks.

Molly looked at Sherlock and grinned. This was the right time. She turned to Mary and took her hand "That is if you don't mind having a fat bridesmaid?"

"Oh Molly, you are funny, You are not fat and you certainly don't need to lose any weight. In fact if anything the little bit of weight you've gained recently looks great on you, you'd lost so much weight while Sherlock was ill."

Molly laughed "No Mary, I don't mean that." She patted her tummy.

Mary's jaw almost hit the floor. She looked to Molly then to Sherlock, then to John, then back to Molly, back to Sherlock and finally back to John. The four of them burst out laughing. Mary hugged Molly tightly and John went up to Sherlock and shook his hand.

"How? When? Where? How?" were all that Mary could say the tears now rolling down her and John's cheeks.

"We think I'm around 9 or 10 weeks pregnant now" smiled Molly "so yes, I did fall pregnant on the night before Sherlock took ill. It's kind of a mixed irony to be honest. Our special night resulted in Sherlock becoming seriously ill but also in a miracle happening. We're really excited and looking forward to it, aren't we?" She turned to Sherlock who was beaming at her. He nodded.

They excitedly chatted for quite some time. John kept shaking his head, quite unable to believe what was happening. Molly and Mary started discussing baby names. Molly explained that she was planning to move into Baker Street and that John's old room would eventually become the baby's bedroom.

John wandered out of the room and returned with his doctors bag. "I was on ante-natal clinic on Friday and didn't make it back into the surgery. I have my foetal heartbeat monitor with me. We may not hear it as the baby is still small at the moment but do you want to try and hear a heartbeat?"

Molly's heart skipped. There was nothing she would have liked more. John led her to the settee and lay her down. She lifted up her top and John had a feel of her tummy before putting some jelly on it. He turned on the heart beat monitor, and rubbed it gently over Molly's tummy. Within seconds there was the unmistakable regular 'wooshing' of a heartbeat.

John turned to Sherlock with the biggest smile he'd ever given him. "There you go, Sherlock. And you and Molly did that. Nature is amazing."

Molly grasped Sherlock's hand tightly as the four of them listened intently to the small person growing stronger by the day inside Molly.


End file.
